Cat lovers are the easiest people in the world to thrill with a gift, because anything cat-related will be welcome, such as any of these gifts.
Despite its wild appearance, the American Bobtail is described as extremely intelligent, kind, and devoted to its human companions.
This forum discussion started over six years ago, and long since dwindled to a halt. However, this blog mention of it went viral, and people are still finding it many years later. Strangely enough, the original poster only posted once, and apparently never returned to the forum to read the responses. jaxxxxxxx wrote:
Last night we had our biggest snowfall since we moved here two years ago. While all my cats are toasty warm indoors, I've noticed some neighbors in our new community, leave their cats outside and I worry if they're out that they'll not be safe in this cold weather.
Please Keep Your Outdoor Cats Safe in Cold Weather originally appeared on About.com Cats on Saturday, December 7th, 2013 at 05:45:02.
Q: I read a magazine article that was a debate between cat behaviorists over whether cats have the capacity to love humans. One expert claimed that cats are solitary animals and only seek human companionship to fill their physical needs. I really do feel a bond with my two cats, but am I just fooling myself? Are cats really solitary animals?
Did it ever occur to you that your cat's misbehavior and/or bad attitude might be a result of things you do or don't do? For instance, would you want to use a public restroom that smells like a dirty litter box? Just as we humans do, cats have pet peeves too.
Christmas trees are traditional for many families, but when families include cats, we need to keep their safety in mind when decorating the tree.
Take a sleek, agile cat, roll him in the shimmering gold of a summer sunbeam, and you'll approximate the look of the Abyssinian cat. Fondly called the Aby, the Abyssinian is a lively and active cat.
I was snoozing in the sunshine and Mama kept taking photos. You can see by my ears that I am a little bit annoyed but I knew if I hid my pretty little face she would eventually go away and I could nap.
Well it worked. She did. She wasn’t happy with the pictures though so then she started doctoring them up. Aren’t I pretty enough all on my own Mama?
My friends Calle, Halle and Sukki said that I could be their little brother. I think I will do that. What do you think? I like them because they are very pretty. Chey is laughing cause she says I look like them. She says I must be a pretty boy.
She doesn’t know how tough I am. I should go sit on her head.
Ever wanted to build a toy for your cat but find you have no tools and no talent? With my New Improved Patented Cat Toy Design you too can build a toy for your cats despite your utter lack of skills and limited resources.
Order a large item from the Internet that will be shipped in a cardboard box. Here we've chosen a ceiling fan.
Remove the large item and discard.
Remove cat from box.
Fold the two small flaps in and one large flap down leaving a small square opening near the bottom. Tape the flaps in place.
With scissors cut several small holes, called Smacking Holes, around the sides and on the top of the box. The holes should be slightly larger than a cat's paw.
Add cat treats, toys and/or cat nip to the box to lure your cats in.
Sit back and giggle as your cats hide in and around the box smacking each other through the small holes you cut.
Friday possesses a Master's degree in wreaking havoc, most cats do. Yet its not just the destruction he causes with his paws that makes him noteworthy. It's his unnerving habit of destroying the things you most want to protect and his uncanny ability to reason and problem solve that make living with him akin to living with a master criminal.
Friday's kitten-hood was spent at my parent's home. In those days, my younger sister's room was full of cat tantalizing objects. There was a semi-inflated helium balloon with a long string that dangled to the floor, a large bed with plenty of cat hiding places but best of all was her inflatable chair.
Yes, an inflatable chair. Possibly one of the dumbest inventions ever inflicted on society. The makers of inflatable chairs, being oblivious to tried and true methods of furniture making, offer a product that is a) unattractive in both color and style, b) uncomfortable to sit in and c) ridiculously overpriced. Despite these shortcomings my sister liked it. In fact, she liked it so much she bought an inflatable throw pillow to go with it.
The throw pillow, which matched neither chair nor room, was silver-gray. It had a big cut out circle in the center of it allowing a view to the innermost workings of inflatable throw pillows. To add some character, the manufacturers filled the center with little Styrofoam balls that when exposed to static electricity tended to wiggle as though alive. Friday can hardly be blamed for his abject fascination with the pillow. It's really no surprise that he pounced it, puncturing the cheap, I mean, fragile, plastic with his claws and sending the pillow to an early death and an ignominious trash can burial.
After the pillow casualty my sister began keeping her bedroom door closed. She forgave Friday the pillow, but she wasn't about to lose her chair. I, too, checked her door once she told me I'd be expected to replace the chair should my cat pop it. I thought the chair a waste of money on the best of days, but it was her money. I had no intention of spending my own money on a replacement.
But Friday is no ordinary cat. No mere bedroom door can stand in the way of his evil genius. We never were quite sure if he managed to open the door himself that day or if he had someone on the inside assist him (Dad?). Either way, my sister returned home to find her door open and her chair a sad puddle of green plastic in the corner.
“FRIDAY,” her fury was palpable. My blood ran cold as I thought of the money I was going to have to shell out for another plastic chair. “Friday,” she barely got his name his name out as she was overcome with laughter. I paused. This wasn't exactly the response I'd expected. I looked in the door. My sister stood holding the deflated chair laughing too hard to explain what was so funny. She held it under my nose. There on the back were three little plastic plugs over the air valves like you would find on a pool float. All three were unplugged. All three had cat teeth marks. Nowhere on the chair itself was there so much as a tear or puncture. Friday had simply unplugged the valves and let the air out of the chair.
How did he know deflating the chair would be such a great joke? Please, if you know the answer, don't tell me. I'd rather not know. That evil genius sleeps right next to my head too often for me to be comfortable with any answer to that question. To this day he gets very excited whenever my sister visits. He thinks of her as the “cool” aunt or maybe he just remembers that she was the victim of the best joke he's ever played – so far. There's always tomorrow...
Last week, I spent several days at the beach. It was wonderful. Endless hours of laying in a chair on the beach reading a book, laying in a chair by the pool reading a book and at night, laying in the hot tub reading a book. All my chores and cares were left far behind me and I could relax.
Obviously, I enjoyed my trip but while I was lounging in my comfy beach chair with my book I couldn’t help but think something was missing. I shrugged it off and rolled over to tan my back. Later, after returning to the condo and showering the sand and salt off, I was relaxing with a drink before going to dinner at one of a number of seafood restaurants. While sitting on the couch, enjoying said drink, glancing at the ballgame on TV and watching the cars on the bridge over the marsh, I imagined that I saw a small shadow in the corner of my eye but when I turned to look it was nothing. When I awoke the next morning, I wondered why I slept so well. It must have been those dark curtains over the window.
Then again, perhaps I slept so well because three cats were back at home and not in the small of my back. Could that strange shadow have been my subconscious looking for one of my cats? Was the nagging feeling that something was missing the result of my reading a book unmolested by fluffy paws and head butts? Yes! I was guilty! I missed my cats.
To ease my cat sickness, I tried to imagine what it would be like to take one of them with me. Hemmy would be the obvious candidate, as riding in the car doesn’t upset him too much. It would be so nice to have a cat there to greet me when I came back in from the beach. He’d be napping in the warm sunshine by the large sliding glass doors and would rise and stretch and yawn. I could just picture him there, blinking happily up at me. I smiled to myself as I imagined the scene.
Then my smile faded. What kind of havoc would he wreck on the condo? Sure, it would be nice having him there but that expensive Berber carpet? Ha! That would be scarred the first day. I could almost see little tufts of it gutted and laying next to the new bald spot. Those lovely wooden chairs? Delightful, vacation scratching posts! And the screened-in porch?! The cat roller coaster of the whole trip! He could dangle for hours from those screens. The large, white marsh birds would look especially delicious. Visions of him dangling at eye level chattering at the birds quickly assured me that taking Hemmy on vacation wouldn’t be terribly relaxing.
So, I plan my next trip and resign myself to spending a few more days away from the cats. After all, packing the litter box, food, bowls, and arranging the car for a four hour trip with a cat makes being apart from them a bit easier to swallow. Still, that patch of warm sunshine was designed for a cat…
This is Chopper One; we see no sign of the mouse. I repeat we see no sign of the mouse.
We have a lot of stuff in that closet. I pulled item after item free shaking things a bit as I went listening for the sound of scratching or scampering. No mouse. Finally, all the contents of my closet were on the floor and the closet was inspected by me, Hemmy and Claire for possible mouse escape hatches. No such hatch existed and there was still no sign of the mouse. I knew he was hidden somewhere in all the stuff but was helpless to search anymore. It was time for class.
I felt bad for the mouse. No doubt, one of my slavering beasts would find him before I got home and then what would his fate be? I shuddered to think. I packed my supplies and tried to get my head back in order before my talk.
When I returned home there were all four pets in the exact position I had left them in. Kit was lying by the speakers keeping a casual eye on the gap at the back. Claire sniffed at the closet. Hemmy sat by the door watching sleepily and Friday was still on top of the computer desk. Presumably, no one found the mouse while I was at class.
No one ever did find him, either. Who knows what became of him. I like to think that in the dead of night he tippy-toed back out the way he came. Still, if you come to a yard sale at my house, you may want to thoroughly check the contents of the board game before you buy it. For all the pets and I know the mouse may never have left!catcatscat humorcat comedycat toys