Tag Archives: cats

To Err is Human, to Post is Feline.

In 2002, when I read the writing on the wall, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to drive my growing sons crazy chasing after them and wailing, “Hug me! Why won’t you cuddle anymore?” or I was going to get a kitten and transfer all my neediness onto it. No-brainer. Mr. Wordtabulous has always been miffed that he was not consulted, only informed of the cat acquisition, but to my memory I have only brought three major things into our home without discussing it with him: garage sale dining room table (epic win,) garage sale loveseat/hide-a-bed (epic fail) and Catabulous (epic win, with allowances for noise, midnight bed stomping and litterbox maintenance.)

Having neglected my blog lately, I was racking my brain for a topic to post on (yes, preposition, I know) and all I could think of was how adorable my cat is. One of my simple but guilty pleasures is looking at pictures and videos of cats online. They are funny, and often beautiful, and sweet. I like how people caption the photos. I am amused when people dress their cats, although that is going a bit far. The thing is, people LOVE cat pics and they get a LOT of hits. So “Cynical me” posed a question to “Deer-In-The-Headlights me” (she is my default–the one who is wandering around taking everything in and hoping to make sense of it all before the screeching crash.)

Cynical: Would you ever write a cat blog?

DITH: What do you mean, like a single post, or a whole, like, themed blog?

Cynical: Don’t play coy with me. Would you ever start a blog strictly around cat images, cat care, and cat love? Just to get the hits?

DITH: Let me think. I do really love my cat. If I did start such a blog, it wouldn’t be just for the hits.

Cynical: Oh, please.

DITH: Stop it. I don’t think I have enough material.

Cynical: That isn’t an answer. And seriously? About a fourth of your posts have something to do with a cat anyway. You aren’t far off from being a cat blog. As for material, what did you just buy?

DITH: A leash. For my cat.

Cynical: And if we looked in your photo gallery on your phone, what would we find?

DITH: Cat photos…lots of them. But he’s very photogenic! And everyone else I take pictures of look like they’re in pain!

Cynical: So you have the material, you have the obsessive interest, and you have the attention-seeking personality that would dangle tags like “cat,” “cute,” “funny,” and “playful,” with the objective of luring people in just to raise your stats. Why don’t you start taking pictures of your cat next to photos of movie stars, or of him watching trailers of new release movies so you can work those into your tags, too?

DITH: I don’t like your tone. And I don’t think people who write cat blogs are only interested in hits, they are sharing the joy of cats.

Cynical: Now you are just pandering to the cat bloggers.

DITH: Wow, you’re mean. Look, the answer is no. I wouldn’t write a cat blog just for the hits. Also, I don’t have the attention span for a single topic and I lack commitment. That is why my blog is the whack-a-doodle mishmash that it is. I write what I want to (yes, yes, PREPOSITION.) Besides, if I were really cynical, I’d write about Walk Off the Earth T-shirts and local news anchors because according to my stats THAT is where the action is.

That being said, here is a funny picture of my cat sitting on top of the novel A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin. If only he was wearing my WOTE t-shirt and sitting on Leah McLean’s (from KSTP) lap.

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Paws of Destruction

I have been exchanging facebook comments with a friend of mine about our crazy, deadly cats. Joe, my only cat at this time, became a necessary addition to our household after my kids started getting their own ideas about how much cuddling is required for a happy household. It probably won’t surprise you to find out that their reckoning of optimal time spent snuggling is radically lower than mine. Hence the cat. We have had cats always, but they were more for fun, not necessity, and they really weren’t what you might call “cuddle compliant.” Joe is a different kind of cat. Indoors, when he isn’t sleeping, Joe is all about the petting, the baby talk, being carried like an infant, etc. I can’t decide if he really likes it or is just smart enough to understand that with the squishy food comes certain expectations, but either way he goes along with it and I’m happy. At night, we often gave Joe the choice about whether he wanted to be in or out. We tried to be reasonably safe about this, not letting him out until most of the traffic and the dogs were in, and for the most part he came home in the morning intact. There was the one time he got put in “kitty jail,” when one of the neighbors summoned animal control out of concern either for the songbirds or the poops roaming cats tend to leave behind in gardens. Those were a horrible couple of days as I waited for Joe to drag himself home, before I realized he might be in the slammer. We kept him inside for a week or so after that, but he can be very strident about his outside time (not to mention quick to slip out the door between our feet,) and we ended up allowing him his nocturnal freedom again. Joe gradually built up his hunting skills and started bringing home chipmunks, squirrels, very occasionally a bird, and often, rabbits. It became obvious that he prefers the heads, which I guess to him were rich delicious nuggets encased in a crunchy, edible shell. Most mornings we found small decapitated corpses on the lawn, which were unpleasant to clean up, but not as unsettling as the small beady eyeballs he often left behind, staring up at us through blades of grass. It was gross but being outside made him happy, and he was so fit from all the exercise and varied diet. The downside of buying and applying flea control and tapeworm pills seemed worth it. But recently, Joe has acquired a new interest, and it has been his downfall. It seems that on his nightly sojourns, he has developed a social streak and in the interest of finding new feline friends, has taken to launching himself onto neighbors’ window screens. Joe is not a small cat; he weighs a good twelve pounds. Evidently a cat of the right size can propel itself with sufficient force to pull a screen right out of a window, then enter, panicking feline and human inhabitants alike and leaving a swath of destruction in his wake. It has happened more than once. Multiple households. I am unshaken in my belief that his sole intention was to have a friendly visit, but I couldn’t argue with the damage. So now Joe is an inside cat, and we are all coming to terms with that. He is still vocal about his preference to be outside, especially as the evening slips into night. He seems to be putting on a little weight. We try to chase him around a little more often, and pull out the toys; overall we are making the transition. He might be a trespasser with a little bit of murder in his heart, but he is still my baby.