Tag: snacks

‘Who, Me? I Wasn’t Clawing At The Screen Again, I Swear!’

“Hahaha! You humans are so funny with your overactive imaginations!

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Your ears and eyes deceive you, human! I was not trying to scratch the screen door again.

I told you, those tears in the screen are from a chalupacabra! I said ‘Look here, chalupacabra, this is Buddy Territory. You’re not welcome here! Get!’

But you know those chalupacabras, they never listen. Stubborn animals!

Chalupacabra
Pictured: A vicious Chalupacabra that scratches the screen door and blames poor Buddy. Credit: PITB

My claws are NOT stuck in the screen, okay? I’m just resting my paw. I can get free any time I want, it’s just that I don’t want to right now.”

Forty-six minutes later:

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“I’m right here, you know. I see you eating that ice cream sandwich. I see how it is. ‘Snacks for me, but not for thee.’ Well I have news for you, human! I’m going to sit here and stare at you all mean-like until you procure a Buddy snack.

You feel guilty? Good! You’re meant to.”

‘Where’s Mine, Dude?’: How My Cat Makes Me Feel Guilty

When I adopted Buddy I never thought I’d have such a talkative and friendly cat. Or one who seems to be an expert on human psychology, for that matter.

The little guy has made a habit of following me to the kitchen, even rousing himself from naps the instant he hears the fridge door opening, the rustling of a bag or the clunk of a closing cabinet.

Employing a different strategy than the meow-heavy, “FEED ME NOW!” style he uses at meal time, he sits in the doorway of the kitchen and watches me silently. If I fail to retrieve a snack for him, he doesn’t move.

Last night I’d forgotten to get him something and when I set my cereal bowl down on the coffee table and sank back into the couch, I looked over and saw Bud still sitting in the kitchen doorway, managing to simultaneously look sad and silently incriminating with his big green eyes.

“Where’s mine, dude? Dude, where’s mine?” he seems to say, pouring it on thick. “I thought we did everything together, yet here you are enjoying a snack while your best little Buddy is standing just a few feet away, feeling betrayed as you eat your Frosted Flakes. I guess we weren’t best buddies after all.”

Because I can’t stand that incriminating look and I know the situation will escalate if I don’t act, I dutifully rise from the couch and assume my responsibility as Bud’s faithful human servant, fetching some of his favorite dental treats.

His tail curls into a happy question mark and he trills his happiness.

“Guilty? Betrayed? Ah, all forgotten! Difficulties are dissolved into mere misunderstandings where snacks are concerned, my human friend!”

Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing the little guy. Or maybe he really is a master of human psychology who can manipulate human emotions with the twist of his paw.

National Pet Day: An Occasion For Extra Snacks And Catnip

Dear PITB readers,

Today, April 11, is National Pet Day! On behalf of all your kitties, I am here with a gentle reminder that providing more snacks and catnip than usual is the only appropriate way to celebrate this great holiday, and they should be administered along with massages and generous amounts of praise.

National Pet Day should not be confused with Global Cat Day (Oct. 16), National Cat Day (Oct. 29), Hug Your Cat Day (June 4), or International Buddy Day (April 21). Additional yums, catnip and silvervine should be served on each of those days as well.

In addition, on International Buddy Day, there is a feast held in my honor, and my admirers pay tribute with special gifts of turkey pate, turkey treats, turkey bacon or whole turkeys. Toys are also acceptable.

Penalties for failing to observe any of these holidays may include, but are not limited to, extensive yowling, getting the cold shoulder, withholding snuggles, and being deprived of the delightfulness of my company.

Thank you for your understanding and anticipated cooperation.

Your liege lord,
Buddy
First of His Name, Champion of Yums, Prime Connoisseur of Turkey, Feline of Extraordinary Handsomeness, Humble King

I Smell Treason In The Air!

A special message from Buddy:

There is treason in the air, dear readers! I can smell it, just as surely as I can smell an open tin of catnip from three rooms away.

There has been increased laundry activity, hushed talk of a place called North Carolina, and the suspiciously early decommissioning of the Christmas tree.

My food has been inventoried and a portion of it set aside. I am not very good at math, but it appears to be at least four or fivedays’ worth of perfect portions wet food in addition to kibble.

The Great Cabinet of Yums

Most distressing of all, Big Buddy has changed into the same shirt three nights in a row: The very shirt he leaves on the bed when he goes away, believing his scent will comfort me. (Perhaps it does for less sophisticated creatures like dogs. Oh, to be so simple-minded!)

I know based on past experience that someone will enter my realm daily to feed me and give me fresh water. I also know it’s likely going to be the nice lady who used to play with me after feeding me…until I attacked her the last time she was my cat sitter.

It seemed like the right move at the time, but I regret it now. She will probably feed me and run out. 😦

What I’d like to know is: What did I do to deserve this betrayal? Shouldn’t I go with Big Buddy to this mysterious place called the Outer Banks? And what makes the Outer Banks so special, anyway? The low interest rates? The free checking accounts? A cool vault with one of those big, heavy doors you see in movies?

I guess it’s not all bad. I’ve only been sleeping 13 hours a night lately, so some down time will allow me to catch up on my beauty rest.

Also, the entire place could do with a thorough scent-marking, and not having a human around means there won’t be any complaining about it.

But who will I sleep on? Who will give me snacks when I meow for them? Who will tell me I’m a good boy and scratch my head?