rootboy 

That's hard to believe, huh, Noglider? But I wouldn't put it past a cat.

bibliobob

Woof!

bici_mania

I loved Richard Scarry books as a small child, Huckle was my favorite of course. He looks like a Huckle, and very photogenic.

That is a great picture. My cats are always doing crazy stuff but I have a very hard time timing the camera snap with their craziness.

BluesVan

photogravity

I really like the color of your cat BluesVan. He/she appears to be friendly to boot.

Lenton58 

Quote:

Originally Posted by rootboy

Oh man. That story of the stealth garbage raid reminds me once again of why I love cats. Fantastic.

By the time this story starts the three of us had become very much a family, and yet there were things we were still finding out about our beast. People who have not lived with animals — perhaps especially cats — will not understand some things. Kat was simply part of a threesome that made up our household.

If I came home and did not say hello to him, he would warn me by sliding something breakable — like my wife's flowerpot — near the edge of the shelf where he liked to lounge in the late afternoon sun. And If I persisted in ignoring him, he'd shove the pot onto the floor where it would smash. Then I would have to stop talking to my wife and apologize and say hello or he would begin on the next breakable object. Sometimes after a hard day at work, I did overlook him ... but I learned. And so did other visitors to the house. One had better greet Kat, or he’d find a way to make you wish you had.

At one memorable party, a late guest arrived and was greeted at the entrance by a well-lubricated celebrant of the festivities. The fresh arrival was introduced to J, and I, and thence advised to introduce himself to Kat. This suggestion was brushed aside as playful banter. But, about 90 minutes later, I saw this same guy shaking paws with Kat and making up for his rudeness. Apparently, Kat had been by his side from his very first drink and had stared him down him in concentrated consternation — or whatever is the analogue for feline pique. Kat was very satisfied with the apology, and the formerly indifferent guest and Kat became good friends. This story is not merely my fanciful reverie. It was verified and fleshed out by friends who took notice of the encounter and eventual entente.

And yes — very early one morning I did cook breakfast for Chief Dan George and I. It was not long after his wife of many years had died, and very shortly after the wrap of "Little Big Man”. How and why I met him is a story that I cannot tell here. But what is pertinent is that while I was cooking, I saw that Kat and Mr George had become very well acquainted in a way that was touching and significant.

Noglider:

Quote:

He seriously re-packed the garbage?

I am very serious! His repeated attempts at digging out chicken bones became a serious family matter. My wife was very worried because she had been informed that cats could choke to death on splintered chicken bone. To this day, I don’t know if this is true, but J. was worried.

About twice a week we cooked chicken for supper. After the meal, we packed all manner of garbage on top of the bones. But, the next morning we would find remains of bones on the floor. We scolded Kat, and he was seemingly chastised — if that is a word we can apply to a cat.

After several of these incidents, what with the obvious evidence having ceased to appear, it seemed to us that our disapproval had moved Kat into retiring from bone retrieval. We fed him very well anyway, so we just assumed that had given up. But then J. began to find traces of evidence on the linoleum. So, she began unpacking the garbage in the morning only to find masticated bones. More scolding; and I mean just admonition. We never abused him!

At this juncture, he really started putting his intelligence to use. And so thus did we. After some discussion it was agreed that J. would make a diagram, or map if you will, of where each item was in the strata that made up the day's garbage pale. And this was the start of how J. proved Kat’s brilliance — the same technique used by any spy who is trying to not be noticed after any intrusive entry. He/she leaves things in the same order as they find them. Not like the morons who raided the office of Daniel Ellsberg's psychiatrist around the same period.

J. was a pretty cat-like creature herself, and so she quietly witnessed things in the darkness of night while yours truly was in deep sleep. From both observation and by checking the garbage map, J. was able to prove that Kat had manipulated the situation to gain his own favour. The masticated bones were exactly in the right place with all the strata in the pail, as well as in correspondence with the map. The damning evidence lay in the way the bones had been masticated by his considerable jaws — and some crumbs on the linoleum. I mean, one can't expect a cat — even Kat — to run about with the Hoover in the wee hours of the morning.

J. and I very sadly, but without rancour or rampant bitterness, split up and later divorced. Kat went to live with J. who has never left as an extended member of my family. But except for some short interludes when Kat came to live with me when J. was travelling or something, I did not see him for many years. Then one day I had a notion. I called J. and asked if I could visit. Soon after my arrival, I asked to see Kat. J. told me to go to the hallway toilet because that was where the very aged, old dear spent a lot of his time — on top of the terry-cloth seat cover.

I opened the door and said hello. He said hello back. Perhaps I am too wistful in thinking that he knew me well. But then ... I don't think so. You see, I can tell you unabashedly that the only other time I have spent such as this was during the last hours of my grandfather’s life. We sat in the same silence, but never felt the want of anything else. I felt close to him ... and something I cannot explain ... as in the case of Granddad. I left him for the last time.

A few days later, J. called and told me Kat had died. It was not only his death ... it was a punctuation mark at the end of our youth. Kat had been nearly 21 years old.

J. went on to have other cats that she loved ... but of course there was never another Kat — the animal that so many friends and acquaintances had come to know. They had made him party to stories and common lore among a circle of friends and family. Can anyone castigate me for still missing him. He was beautiful, but we did see him as a cutesy ball of back fluff. We did not anthropomorphize him. To us he was the essence of the “alpha” cat, which was why he was called “Kat”. J. always claimed that no other name would do for him. He was a fellow mammal with whom we found some grace in sharing a world in the glory of our youth — and each other, the three of us.

Lorne/Lenton

repechage

No images, but my cat has something in common with many pro cyclists. She is going on PED's. Old Old cat, the Rx to improve her red cell count. EPO.

Italuminium

Lorne, what a touching story of a very special cat. Thank you for sharing.

noglider 

Lenton, that is a fine story, and terribly well written. I thank you for that!

rootboy 

Yes indeed.

Glennfordx4

I am writing this with a very heavy hart, on Thursday April 4th I had to have my 8yr old cat Lil Kris put down, she had gotten sick between Monday and Tuesday night. When I found her under my bed her right eye was swollen shut & her front legs didn't work, our vet seems to think she had a tumor either in her brain or spine. We tried our best to save her but she was getting worse & not better so the call was made. Lil Kris was the smallest one of 6 solid black cats we rescued from our back yard, she was bought in first because she was cross eyed & we were afraid her vision wasn't right ( it was). I had a special bond with her as she choose me over my wife to whom the other 5 choose. I worked with her everyday ( for the whole 8yrs ) trying to domesticate her, and at the time of her death I could only pet her on her terms although she came to me everyday to play and always wanted to know where I was and what I was doing. She had never been sick before and still acted like a 2 year old wanting to play all the time ( the laser was her favorite ).

I haven't felt this bad since I lost my mother in 03, she was a very big part of my life & helped me get through a serious battle with depression which I now fear I will slip into again without her around. Below are a few pictures of my good girl, a few are with her love of her life Stripe, she loved to be with him when ever she could but some times my cat Bear wouldn't let her as he also claimed Stripey for his own. She was also the only female cat we have that liked most of all our male cats.

Glenn

One of the first pics I took of her when we bought her in,

Being cleaned by Snuffy,

Sleeping in Dads chair,


After a little catnip,

Sleeping with Snuffy,


Sleeping with her best friend Stripe,

Cougrrcj

BTDT. There is no cure. They are all different - we have 14, and have had many more in the past. You just have to remember that you gave Lil Kris a good home and that she probably lived much longer than if you had not taken her in. So you enriched two lives - hers and yours. So you eventually get another, but it will never be a replacement, but rather another soul that you'll cherish just as much, and you'll be that much richer of heart for the experience.

Conan

Pebbles (Aka. Junior P)






Hunter (aka Black bean)



Alex (aka. Alexander, Zander)

Chombi

We always had cats when we were kids and reading the stories above makes me really miss the one and only cat that I owned myself (or did she own me?).
"Beaney" was a small female cat with grey and white tiger striped fur who was given to me as a gift by my sister-in-law who got her from the Milwaukee Humane Society. We lived together in a small apartment, just north of the City in Glendale for about three years. She never really grew and stayed close to the size of a large kitten, which makes her easier to love as she was always baby cute.

I still remember how she would sleep on my legs or chest to keep warm in the cold Milwaukee winters, but I especially remember that one time when the power and heat went out during an ice storm and I woke up chocking badly in the morning with the little cat sleeping laying across my neck! I guess that was the warmest place she could find so I cant really get mad at her even though she could have killed me that morning.

I also remember the time when she got a stomach flu and the vet told me to give her some Pepto-Bismol.......and I discovered how much cats hated the stuff. I had to wrap her tight like a mummy with a blanket with just her face showing just to get her to drink the stuff from an eye dropper. She hated the stuff so bad (must be the mint flavor) that she would suddenly developed superhero strength and would explode out of the wrappings repeatedly without any problem and would run and hide away under my bed for the next whole day to show me her disgust. didn't know whether to laugh about it or feel sorry for her to go through all that, but it did cure her bad stomach.
She also, for some reason knew where she is not supposed to be or what not to mess around with and messed around with it anyway just to show who's running the show when the master is gone at work....like the school project architectural model I saved for some years after college. I had to chase her away from it many time. even put it on the highest shelf I had and also put foil on top of it so it would scare her off....still she eventually got to the model under the foil anyway and killed it bad. I could not get mad at her afterwards as in the end she was convincing me to finally let go of all that old school stuff!.....

Shortly after that we had a bad fire in the apartment building (some sort of jealous former girlfirend stuff going on with a neighbor). I evacuated the apartment with one bag of important papers and Beaney who sensed the danger somehow and dug all her claws hard into my chest and back when I carried her down three flights of stairs. She survived the trauma and had to live with a neighbor across the street for a couple of days till the landlord did the repairs and cleaned up the building for us. Going through that made me much closer to the cat as I saw how she was so attached and dependent on me, literally......

Eventually the day came when I had to move to CA to find employment as everything dried up for me in Milwaukee. It was sort of an emergency move and I was going to live with my older brother's family for a while to get started in CA......he wife is very very.....did I say very?... allergic to cats!....so Beaney had to be given away again by my sister-in-law in Milwaukee. She ended up in a Wisconsin dairy farm where I hope she spent (or still spending) the rest of her life drinking all the cow's milk that she ever wanted!........ Miss that cat!
BTW, (bike content)...She also found it nice to sit on my PSV's Turbo saddle. Usually found her sitting on the saddle on my bike which was parked near the front door. I guess it was the best place for her to greet me when I get home from work, but thank god she never used it to sharpen her claws! I did put on some foil on the saddle at one time to keep her off it, but she always just took it off anyway......Miss that cat!
I have to confess that sometimes I even called her from work on my answering machine that goes on speaker mode automatically, so that she just hears my voice during the day. Just felt sorry for the thing being cooked up in my apartment all day without any interaction. I think that what makes some cats psycho and anti-social sometimes......

Chombi

cobrabyte

auchencrow

eschlwc

of all the cats i've known (lived with only three, have only one now), yossarian, my friend's cat is the second worst (after my other friend's cat that is possessed by 'the exorcist' demon). yossarian's worst habit is hiding the remote. his owner will even put the tv remote in the coffee table drawer, and yossarian will open the drawer, take out the remote and hide it in a few different locations, his favorite being way underneath the couch. when i first heard of this, i didn't believe it, then i spent the night over there and found out first hand. yossarian is a terrible cat. a trickster.

eschlwc

i'm glad clicked on this. at first, i laughed and thought, this young woman is not what we'd refer to as 'all together.' and though that might be true, i'd much rather be like her than many other persons i've met in my life that were cold, almost soulless people that felt little attachment to the other animals around them, be they dogs, cats, or humans.

bibliobob

That's one fine cat. Stay strong, Glenn.

Metacortex

Her name isn't Debbie and she's an aspiring actress. But I'm sure you already knew that! <g>

cobrabyte

Ha! Cats & small spaces...

SumoMuffin

My little guy Manks, I got him the day after last year's election, Nov. 7, from a disgusting trash filled, cigarette smoked apartment. He was tiny and infested with fleas, earmites, and worms. I still can't believe the people who lived there had a child running around that place with the trash, smoke, and infested cats. That being said, I nursed him to health and now he's a very active happy (although needy) kitty. Some pics of him doing his favorite things: lounging and climbing.

eschlwc

no, i didn't run a background check. but the backstory doesn't really change the truth of the video, because if she's not really like that, and it was an act, she is acting like someone out there, existing and crying funny, sweet tears when thinking of animals in need.

but you're right, i really need to work on my skepticism of the human condition.

Glennfordx4

Thanks, getting better as time goes on, but I sure do miss her & night time is the worse as she always would come and find me so we could play with her laser ( Which I retired and put with her ashes). I hooked up one of my backup hard drives yesterday and found all my pictures dating back until 05 & didn't realize we bought her in almost a full 2yrs before we bought in her 5 brothers & sisters bringing our total at that time to 14 cats & one dog ( we had no choice, it was that or death) and we are down to 10 now.

Glenn

rootboy 

I know it sounds sappy but, just try to remember all the joy she brought you Glenn. Good luck. There is nothing quite like losing a beloved cat.