Day 1: I meowed for treats for two hours and 37 minutes this morning, to no avail. Has Buddy the Larger suffered a stroke? This could pose serious problems for my snacking requirements.
Day 2: This must be a joke. A bad, totally-not-funny joke that’s gonna end with my teeth and claws delivering the final punchline. I WANT MY TREATS NOW.
Day 3: This new kibble is tasteless. Blue Buffalo Wilderness, my ass. More like Brown Cardboard Inside. Thank God I still get turkey. Oh, turkey, I love you.
Day 4: It has been 93 hours, 22 minutes and 17 seconds since my last treat, a creamy, moist morsel of manufactured goodness that activated the reward pathways in my brain like only the finest kitty crack can. You got any on you, bro?
Day 5: By employing my own talents of stealth and acrobatics, I’ve discovered not only is Big Buddy withholding snacks from me, they’ve all disappeared from the snack cabinet! What horrible sorcery is this?
Day 6: Last night I helped myself to some of Big Buddy’s pasta when he left the room to refill his beverage. It’s awful, rubbery stuff topped with sauce made from tomato, that infernal vegetable. Yet I gulped it down. What’s happening to me?!
I know your advice column is meant for cats, but I thought you’d make an exception for a human who seeks your wise and benevolent guidance, Oh Great Handsome One, for who else is as smart and perceptive as Buddy?
My question is: Should I buy a Licki? You know, one of those silicon rubber “tongues” with spikes that are supposed to mimic a kitty’s bristled tongue. I’d like to bond with my cat, and according to the people who make the Licki, grooming my kitty just like a momma cat is the best way to bond.
What do you think?
– Human In Hawkins, Indiana
Oh hell no!
Big Buddy bought one of those things and creeped up on me all stealth-like when I was taking a nap one day. One second I’m dreaming about bountiful feasts with endless roast turkey, the next I’m waking up to that daft two-legs dragging a rubber tongue back and forth through my fur, looking like an epileptic seal.
I thought I was being attacked by a porcupine dipped in crazy glue! Once I realized what was happening, I gave Big Buddy a hard paw smack and bit his hand for emphasis: Get that weak shit out of my personal space!
So no, don’t buy a Licki. You’ll just waste $25 on a piece of rubber that makes your cats loathe you. Instead, provide massages on-demand and step your treats game up. Now that is something your kitties will appreciate.
Buddy gave me the cold shoulder after I returned from Japan and it lasted all of 30 seconds before he couldn’t contain himself and began rubbing up against me to mark me with his scent.
Cats have scent glands all over their body, including their cheeks and foreheads, and scent is one way they establish familiarity and “ownership.” They’re comforted by the presence of their own pheromones, which is why products like Feliway — an artificial cat pheromone in a spray bottle — can help anxious cats chill out.
When a cat rubs up against a human or another cat, they’re essentially saying “These are my people!”
Or in Buddyspeak: “This guy is my servant! My servant has returned!”
Upon my return from an extended absence Buddy will not let me out of sight and will cry loudly and incessantly if I so much as use the bathroom without allowing him in, as is tradition. And this time around he puked when I returned, as is tradition.
I suspect it’s his way of processing relief, similar to the way some animals shake when overcome with anxiety or emotion. I try to remind myself that if it feels like I’ve been away a long time, for Buddy it must feel like a much longer time has elapsed — and there’s no way I can communicate to him that I’ll be back soon, so there’s an additional element of anxiety-provoking uncertainty.
Regardless, the king is happy again. Long live the king! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a plate of turkey pate to serve…
You’re always going on about food as if your Big Buddy doesn’t ply you with snacks. I know he does, because you’re getting chubby.
But that’s beside the point: You’re a cat! You don’t need humans to feed you. You could venture outside and grab yourself a nice juicy mouse or a plump bird!
It’s time for you to get in touch with your roots and your inner predator, Buddy.
– Rodent Hunter in Rhode Island
Dear Rodent Hunter,
First of all, I am NOT chubby. It’s called a primordial pouch, okay? Cats from fierce warrior lineages have them to protect us from the claws of our opponents and the talons of raptors. (The avian kind, not the dinosaurs, although if dinosaurs were still around I’d kick their asses too.)
Secondly, I would totally go outside and hunt me some snacks, but I can’t. It’s in my contract. When you make a living off your devastating good looks like I do, you can’t just get into scraps like a common cat.
If you say so. But humans are constantly leaving tasty treats all over the place. You just need to know where and when to look.
For example, did you know humans eat whipped cream in the bathroom? It’s true! The next time your Big Buddy is shaving his whiskers, find some way to make a distraction that will draw him out of the bathroom.
While he’s distracted you can eat the whipped cream. There will be entire globs of it all around the sink! Just gobble it all down really fast and get out before Big Buddy realizes you’re eating his yummy snacks.
You’ll have plenty of time to savor the taste of that delicious whipped cream once you’re out of the bathroom. When you taste it, I want you to think of me. That’s the taste of victory, Buddy!
– Rodent Hunter in Rhode Island
Dear Rodent Hunter,
Thanks, my friend! It’s nice to know my readers love me so much. Big Buddy usually shaves at night.
Tonight I feast on sweet, yummy whipped cream!
WHAT THE &$@#, DUDE?!? That was NOT whipped cream! It didn’t taste like victory either. It was gross! I had to wash my mouth out eight times and eat half a bowl of kibble just to get the taste off my tongue, and then I got sick.
Do you think Big Buddy knew I was going to steal his whipped cream? He knew, right? That’s why he put that disgusting fake whipped cream for me to find. It’s the only logical explanation.
You’re as sharp as you are handsome, Buddy! That’s got to be what happened. Your Big Buddy must’ve known and he played a prank on you. Makes total sense.
I eat the whipped cream all the time when my human shaves, and it is creamy and delicious! Maybe you should try again. Be really slick about it so your human doesn’t know you’re coming and put the fake whipped cream out for you. Be stealthy!
When you outsmart your human and you get that first taste of milky, creamy, silky deliciousness, remember that you’re a genius and you’ve earned it. Your persistence will pay off!
Let me know how it goes. 🙂
I was outwitted again. 😦 I don’t know how he knew I was going to steal his whipped cream again, but somehow Big Buddy found out and pulled another fast one on me. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on you again!
Well I won’t give him the satisfaction of a third time! I’m done trying to steal whipped cream for the time being.
I’m really sorry to hear that, bro. You’re really missing out on a yummy treat. Oh well.
What about…? Nah. Nevermind. It’s better you don’t know about the cakes.
Come on, dude! Don’t hold out on me! What are these cakes you speak of? I’m already getting hungry.
Okay, okay. If you insist. But I must warn you, these things are so delicious you might never go back to cat food again.
They’re called urinal cakes and they’re usually pink, like the color of fresh turkey…
When they brought out the dogs, we attacked! All 1,000 of us stormed the movie set and unleashed chaos!
Alpha Company lured the dogs off set, leading the dumb beasts on a chase through the back alleys. Fauxtrot Company successfully destroyed $156,214 worth of filming equipment. And the glorious combined forces of Easy Company and Buddy Company kidnapped Keanu Reeves and took him to a secure location in a warehouse several blocks from the set.
I’m told when our soldiers took the blindfold off of Keanu, he looked around, realized his captors were cats, and said: “Whoah!”
Doubtless you have seen the media reports and the debrief in which the director, Chad Stahelski, acknowledged us with grudging praise.
Once we secured the perimeter, we sent a delegation to Stahelski with our demands for the release of Reeves.
I must admit, General, this was the only part of your plan I doubted: Would the director agree to pay the ransom, or would he simply replace Reeves with a piece of cardboard?
After several hours’ deliberation the humans delivered the booty and we released the confused Mr. Reeves to their custody.
“We had walls of cats. Walls of f—ing cats,” Stahelski said. “The amount of f—ing cat food — we were probably feeding more cats than people on set.”
Your cut of the haul — 400 pounds of Temptations Tantalizing Turkey and Surfer’s Delight, 12 cases of Meowijuana and a lifetime’s supply of Buddy Biscuits — is en route to your headquarters in New York, with the delivery personally overseen by Sgt. Mewsain Bolt, our fastest courier.
It was an honor executing your battle plan, sir.
— Capt. Pawl Brooks
Chronicling the adventures of Buddy the Cat and his various criminal enterprises.