pets – Page 18 – Pain In The Bud

Readers Are Furious With Mag Over Severe Cat Neglect Story, PLUS: Buddy’s Le Handsome Club!

New York magazine’s article included difficult-to-read details about the severe neglect of a pet cat, and didn’t offer any reassurances that the forsaken feline was okay.

Happy Thursday! Before we get into today’s cat news, I’d like to share my current Google News search string, which has helped me keep my sanity over the last few weeks. It’s simple:

“cat -doja -vance -shot”

And voila, no more stories about Doja Cat, fewer blood pressure-raising articles about people who think shooting felines is a sport, and you’re mercifully saved from the 17,457th “think piece” about JD Vance and cat ladies.

The “relatable” column about severely neglecting a cat

New York magazine’s editors knew they were wading into a minefield with this week’s pet ethics issue, and the author of a story about neglecting her cat knew it too, which is why she took the preventative step of using a nom de plume.

In a column titled “Why Do I Hate My Pet After Having A Baby?” (later softened by the editors to “Why Did I Stop Loving My Cat When I Had A Baby?”), “Audrey” writes about severely neglecting her cat, Lucky, after having her first child.

She not only developed what she calls a “postpartum loathing” of Lucky, she admits to not feeding the poor feline for so long that Lucky ate plants out of desperation, then predictably threw up. The forsaken feline began eliminating on the floor because her litterbox was not being scooped. She lost “at least one tooth” and because even water was denied her, she had to drink out of the toilet. The life-threatening neglect and emotional abuse lasted months.

“If I treated a human the way I treated my cat, I would be in prison for years,” Audrey admits, describing Lucky’s own descent into depression as the cat became the scapegoat for all of Audrey’s negative feelings.

Cats (and dogs) understand a lot more than we give them credit for, especially when it comes to our emotional states, to which they are hyper-attuned because they are directly impacted. We’re talking about animals who have been companions to humans for 10,000 and 30,000 years, respectively. Not only does their companionship predate human civilization and the concept of recorded history, they have evolved to intuitively read human facial expressions and body language. They can even smell our pheromones, which means they’re often consciously aware of our moods before we are.

I’ll never forget what my brother said to me a few weeks after I adopted Bud, upon meeting the little guy for the first time: “You’re his whole world.” I’ve tried to make that world as loving, safe and fun for my cat as I can, because he deserves it. He’s given me back so much in return.

Adopting comes with responsibility. It’s not just about meeting an innocent animal’s basic needs, like food and water. It’s about providing our four-legged friends with good lives and never taking our bad days out on them.

“Audrey” says she tried to get rid of Lucky, leaving the windows of her home open, and because the original version of the story dealt almost exclusively with the author’s mental health, readers were disturbed by the lack of any follow-up on Lucky’s situation.

The negative reaction was so strong that New York’s editors took the unusual step of attaching a note to the story claiming they “confirmed the welfare of the cat prior to publishing the story.”

That didn’t satisfy the magazine’s critics, who accused them of behaving “callously” by presenting the author’s abuse of Lucky as a “relatable” symptom of post-partum depression.

“Why are you ignoring one of the most controversial articles you’ve ever published instead of addressing it?” one reader wrote. “It’s not going to just go away – we will not forget … The people will not stop until that cat is safe and loved, and your publication is held responsible.”

Insisting the magazine’s editors be “held responsible” is a bit much, and I’m not a fan of censorship. The bigger issue is the lack of concern for the cat even in retrospect, and the attempt to normalize postpartum animal abuse, as if it’s just a thing people do. It feels like a missed opportunity to explore why such things happen, and to examine the problem with compassion for all involved, human and animal.

Buddy the Cat’s Le Handsome Club is now open to le handsome cats

This is really just an excuse to show off my latest poster promoting PITB, but readers will recognize the concept of Le Handsome Club from earlier satirical stories about the Budster.

I’ve written before about “real Buddy” and “cartoon Buddy,” which is the version of him that exists in PITB’s world of absurd satire. Cartoon Buddy is real Buddy with his quirks, narcissistic qualities and amusing lunacy dialed up to 11.

Someone once asked me how to write a children’s book because they want to write one about their pets. Since I’ve never written a children’s book I wasn’t much help, but I did share the basic process for Buddesian hijinks: Imagine a situation, then imagine how Bud would respond to it if he could speak.

The more ridiculous, the better, and I think it’s worked out well, with stories about Buddy getting conned by a Nigerian prince’s cat, the ongoing saga of Los Gatos catnip cartel and the meowfia, Buddy’s disastrous first (and only) term as president of the Americats, and the Budster’s ongoing bromance with the jaguars of the Amazon.

So yes, Le Handsome Club. I could definitely see my cat, who thinks he’s Catdonis and Arnold Schwarzenegger rolled into one, founding a club for really, really, ridiculously good looking cats, to paraphrase Ben Stiller’s Zoolander.

Mag Asks: ‘Is My Cat A Prisoner?’

Are we doing right by our furry friends? The latest issue of New York magazine takes a deep dive into the concept of pet “ownership” and the ethics of keeping animals in our homes.

Almost the entirety of New York magazine is devoted this week to what its editors call “an exhaustive exploration of the ethics of pet ownership.”

The magazine treads a minefield with articles like “Why Did I Stop Loving My Cat When I Had A Baby?“, “Am I a Terrible Pet Parent?“, and “Was I Capable Of Killing My Cat For Bad Behavior?”

There are also articles about what veterinarians really think of “pet owners,” whether runaway dogs deserve to be free, and even a story asking whether the word “owner” is appropriate to begin with. (You’ll notice PITB almost always avoids that word, unless we’re quoting others. I refer to myself as Buddy’s servant and his caretaker, words that feel more honest than owner.)

The stories are worth reading. Some are free for a limited time, others can be read as part of the weekly article limit. And if you can afford it, supporting a magazine or two during these brutal times for the publishing industry is a good way to help quality publications survive, so we’re not all drowning in a sea of clickbait garbage tuned for algorithms instead of human readers.

Regular readers of this blog are likely familiar with the story of Bud’s one and only “escape” as a kitten. When I found him, this cat who hates being picked up leapt into my arms, holding onto me like a terrified toddler, and his relief was palpable as I felt him purring into my neck. We were both relieved.

He’s had the opportunity to leave since, but he won’t. He’s got a good thing going here, living like a little king with his personal servant. He gets tons of attention, he’s allowed to do pretty much anything he wants as long as it isn’t dangerous for him, and he loves his Big Buddy.

I know he does from the way he approaches me, purring and meowing happily as he bunts his forehead against mine. I know it from the way he makes biscuits on me and falls asleep in my lap, feeling content and secure. And I know it from his refusal to leave my side the two times I was so sick I could barely move.

pitblogoretro — He’s got his own site, awesome retrowave logos and online admirers, but Buddy only cares about the snacks.

We shouldn’t feel guilty for giving cats a home.

I think we tend to forget that as domesticated animals, cats don’t have a natural habitat. The process of domestication made them friendlier, more trusting and more capable of reading human body language, facial expressions and tone of voice.

But those changes came at a cost, as they always do in domestication. Felis catus looks like its wild relatives and retains many of the amazing abilities of wild cats, but compared to them the species has lost a step. Domestic cats are not as quick or agile, they’re too trusting, and they’re not well suited to providing for themselves. The statistics on life expectancy reflect that, with ferals and strays living short, miserable lives.

Wildcat — Although it’s usually very difficult to tell a domestic cat from felis lybica, the wildcat species seen here, there are major differences in their respective survival abilities and instincts. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

So if felis catus has a habitat, it’s our living rooms. When our ancestors welcomed them into human settlements ten thousand years ago, they formed an indelible bond and made a pact, even if they didn’t realize it at the time.

Consider it a debt we owe for the survival of our species, when nascent civilization would have likely been snuffed out were it not for cats protecting the grain stores over long, cold winters.

Without cats, rodents would have eaten their way through the season’s rations, starving out the early settlers before the next harvest. The great agriculture experiment would have been over as quickly as it began with people returning to the nomadic life of hunter-gatherers, and it’s likely that everything after — from the first cities, to the birth of western civilization in Greece, to the remarkable achievement of putting a human being on another world — would have been jeopardized or taken radically different paths otherwise.

So you can thank your cat for your house, your car, the medicine that keeps you tip top, all the comforts of modern civilization, and all the stories and songs of humanity. Without cats and their heroic willingness to eat their way into our good graces, we wouldn’t have gotten here. Thank them often. You can’t go wrong with treats.

Caption Contest: What’s Bud Thinking?

Caption a photo of the world’s most Buddinese feline!

Is he yawning? Screaming in terror before dashing behind my legs? Reacting to someone spilling the tea about a friend? Awestruck at a giant turkey?

Well, that’s up to you!

funny buddy — Your witty caption goes here.

Would Your Cat Survive The ‘Quiet Place Challenge’?

Buddy is many things, but he’s NOT quiet. His incessant chattiness can kill my sleep and my peace and quiet, but in the world of A Quiet Place, it would kill me! Would your cat get you killed in the movie franchise’s monster-stalked reality?

As a cat lover, big time science fiction fan and appreciator of the first two A Quiet Place installments, the very first thing I thought when I saw the trailer for A Quiet Place: Day One was “I hope the cat doesn’t meow!”

My second thought? Bud and I would be so, so dead.

Dead immediately. Dead a thousand times over.

Apparently I’m not the only one, because fans have taken to social media to participate in the “Quiet Place Challenge,” which involves reenacting some of the scenes from the movie with their own cats to see if their furry overlords can stay silent.

As PITB readers know, Buddy never shuts up. He’s got something to say about everything, he often narrates his activities in real time, and he’s got an entire meowing ritual that starts at least a half hour before Food O’Clock, gaining in volume and annoyingness until a fresh bowl of turkey is placed before him. His personal patois, the Buddinese dialect, makes heavy use of trills, chirps, grunts, chuffs and sniffs to elaborate on his meows.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Quiet Place movies, they imagine a world that’s been invaded by so-called Death Angels, dread creatures of extrasolar provenance who are completely blind, but have extraordinarily sensitive hearing. The first movie, about a family surviving on their farm in upstate New York months after the initial invasion, was universally lauded for its taut script, effective tension and novel use of a quiet/loud dynamic that is a marked departure from the usual horror-thriller formula.

In A Quiet Place (2018), its 2020 sequel and the recently-released prequel, Day One, entire minutes pass soundlessly. As a viewer you can’t help but wince and tense up when a character errs and makes noise, knowing the consequences can be immediately tragic.

There’s simply no way Bud and I would survive more than five minutes, and if I had to put money on it, I’d wager we’d probably be dead within 60 seconds of the terrifying monsters showing up.

Indeed, the movie doesn’t dither: the Death Angels make planetfall at around the 12 minute mark. Mild spoilers from the beginning of the film follow:

12:31 – On Chinatown’s ruined Pell Street, within a haze of dust so thick you can’t see more than a few feet in any direction, a man shouts loudly into his smartphone, telling the person on the other end that something meteor-like had landed just a few hundred feet away. He’s pulled suddenly and violently into the smog, his scream ending as abruptly as it began. Verdict: Death by Buddy. He’d probably meow in protest at the dust and get us both killed immediately.

12:53 – A female National Guard soldier sees Nyong’o’s Sam and shouts at her to take cover. The guardswoman’s radio crackles with the panicked screams of her comrades saying the enemy is everywhere, and then she’s dispatched as quickly as the guy on the phone. Verdict: Death by Buddy. He’d almost certainly huff derisively at the soldier’s order to take cover, and we’d both be crushed underneath the foot of one of the lumbering beasts.

13:34 – Sam huddles behind a vehicle with another woman when a panicked man screams, drawing the aliens like moths to a flame. Verdict: Death by Buddy. Little dude’s default reaction when he’s scared is to run screaming and hide behind my legs. He’d draw the monsters right to us and we’d die.

13:50 – Sam wakes up inside a theater several minutes after an explosion knocked her out. She’s about to speak when Djimon Hounsou’s Henri clamps a hand over her mouth and raises a finger to his lips. Unfortunately that doesn’t work with a cat. Verdict: Death by Buddy. Attempts to get him to shut up would be fruitless, and while I’d know my only chance for survival would be to throw him like a football so the aliens track his indignant screech, I wouldn’t have the heart to do it. We’d die together.

Frodo, the feline co-star of Day One and “service cat” to Lupita Nyong’o’s Sam, is precisely the opposite. He’s a Good Boy extraordinaire, consistently calm in his mother’s arms and reliably silent when he needs to be.

Frodo the Cat — Frodo is a handsome and resourceful little guy, and much of Day One’s tension comes from putting him in danger. Credit: Paramount Pictures

Without meows to rely on, director Michael Sarnoski gets quite a performance out of Nico and Schnitzel, the two cats who play Frodo. They’re expressive felines who could teach Nicolas Cage a thing or two about how to emote with subtlety, as in one scene when Frodo sees a man emerge gasping from a flooded subway station. Frodo regards the stranger with curiosity, his little face registering surprise at the man’s sudden appearance with just the slightest twitch of his mouth and whiskers.

It’s effective and very cute, but we never forget about the incredible danger that faces Frodo and Sam as they ~~return the One Ring to Mount Doom~~ navigate the ruins of New York City amid blind predators with extraordinarily sensitive hearing.

buddyroarbanner — “LOL I got you killed, dude! Hey! Wake up! I’m hungry! Turkey time! I’ll take my evening meal on the balcony and dine al fresco this evening, okay? Big Bud? Dude?”

If Day One’s world was reality — and I’m extremely thankful it’s not — I suppose it’s possible I’d get lucky if we were in a deep subterranean level of a building for some odd reason, and if Bud decided it’s not worth disturbing his nap to investigate the ruckus above.

But the moment his belly rumbles and he starts screeching for yums, or the second he gets it into his little head that he just has to tell me his latest theory regarding entangled subatomic particles, it would all be over, for me at least. I could totally see Bud making noise, then dashing to his customary hiding place behind my legs while a “Death Angel” impales me with one of its giant claws.

What about the rest of you? Is your cat a Frodo, a Bud or another sort entirely? Would you be dead as quickly as we would be, or do you think you could survive with your furry pal?

Wash. Family Recovers Cat Stolen By Amazon Driver: ‘She Left Her Outside To Die’

After an Amazon delivery driver stole their cat from their driveway, a Washington state family went to great lengths to recover their beloved tabby — without the help of the online retail giant, which declined to put them in touch with the driver.

Feefee’s back home.

The tabby cat, who belongs to the Ishak family of Everett, Washington, has been reunited with her humans after an 11-day ordeal that started with her abduction by an Amazon Flex delivery driver on July 21 and ended with a long and determined search by her family that led to an apartment complex about six miles from their home.

“My wife and I drove around over the last three days concentrating on apartment buildings until [Thursday] when I spotted a car that matched [the driver’s],” Ray Ishak told PITB. “I have been in the car business for 26 years. I know what to look for. Perfect match, even missing the front wheel cover, just like in the [home security camera] video.

“We went to the leasing office and explained we were looking for our cat and reason to believe it might here. The office employees immediately commented that the police were there a few days ago asking about the cat. We knew then we were at the right place.”

Feefee gets a warm welcome from one of the family’s dogs. The 13-year-old tabby cat was stolen from her family’s driveway on July 21 by an Amazon delivery driver. Credit: Ray Ishak

Feefee’s back home. Credit: Ray Ishak

Feefee digs into a bowl of food after returning home. Credit: Ray Ishak

Ishak and his wife spent the next few hours searching the grounds around the apartment complex, which are covered in heavy brush. While they didn’t find Feefee, they spoke to several children playing nearby who confirmed they’d seen the missing tabby. They gave their phone number to the kids, asking them to call if they spotted Feefee again.

“Around 6 pm they called,” Ishak told PITB. “We took off and found her in very heavy brush and sticker bushes.”

The couple gave the kids rewards for their crucial help, then gently coaxed their frightened cat from out of the brush where she’d been hiding.

A video taken afterward shows a famished Feefee digging into a large bowl of food after her long ordeal. She’d clearly not been eating over the past week and since she’s been home she’s been doing little else besides sleeping and eating.

Ishak said his grandchildren, who are particularly close to Feefee, were “elated” when told she’d been found.

For the family, the reunion comes after lots of worry, stress, taking time off work to search for her — and frustration that neither Amazon nor the driver who stole Feefee helped them recover her.

“What is infuriating is the area where [Feefee was found] is right behind the building where that person’s car was parked. That cat has been out there for days with no food and multiple people have seen her on multiple days. [The Amazon driver] just let her out and could have very easily told us and we could have very easily found her days ago and all this would be put to rest.”

The driver stole Feefee from the family’s driveway after delivering a package on July 21. Footage from the Ishaks’ security cameras shows the female driver squatting down in their driveway to pet the 13-year-old cat. The motion-activated camera timed out momentarily, then was triggered a second time as the Amazon driver left with Feefee in her car.

When confronted with video evidence, Amazon admitted the driver had taken the cat and told Ishak the driver went to the police to return her. That wasn’t true: Ishak checked with the Everett police as well as the county sheriff’s office, and neither had been contacted by anyone trying to return a stolen cat.

Then the driver’s story changed. An Amazon rep told Ishak that the driver claimed Feefee had escaped and was missing.

When Amazon would not put Ishak in touch with the driver, he pleaded with them to at least point him in the right direction, suggesting the driver could make a burner email address or call from a blocked number — anything just to get a lead on where Feefee might be.

The woman refused to cooperate.

“She knew where the cat was for over a week and still refused,” Ishak fumed. “She purposely left that cat outside to basically die, while everyone online was calling us bad people for letting our cat be an indoor outdoor cat and that she is better off with that person.”

The online retail giant never gave Ishak an explanation for why one of its drivers would steal his cat, and said only that she no longer works for the company. In an email exchange with Amazon, Ishak pointed out that his family had been victimized in a crime committed by a company employee, yet Amazon was treating it like a customer service issue and protecting the driver.

In the meantime, the family was frustrated by online comments criticizing them for allowing their cat outdoors on their own property. Feefee was diagnosed with asthma years ago and benefits from fresh air, Ray Ishak said. The cat was in the family’s driveway, just a few feet from their home, when she was stolen.

“I took time off work and after a few days of pure determination looking for a needle in a sea of haystacks we found her,” Ray Ishak told PITB. “I guess we’re not so bad after all.”

Videos and photos in this post courtesy of Ray Ishak.