Cat and chips

On my way back from my evening walk, I saw something that brought about mixed feelings of "Good news, everyone!" and "I don't want to live on this planet anymore". What was it? A cat eating out of a container on the ground filled with leftover pie and chips.

It was cute in that the cat was eating out of the container and because the cat would take a chip or two out, run underneath a parked car to eat them before returning to the food to repeat the process. However, it was sad in that the pie, chips and their container were all litter and because a cat should not be eating human food, as it unhealthful for them to do so (well, some meats are okay, provided they're not raw).

The cat looked healthy, so I doubt it was eating the pie and chips because of malnutrition. No, more likely the cat thought the human food smelled nice and decided that it would take a bite. In the long run, the cat munching on the occasional bit of human food in encounters won't hurt it but even so, it's better off with food designed for cats.

Cat on the way

When on my return walk this evening, I spotted this cat:

The cat was less bothered about my presence than I was of its; well, I wasn't bothered - rather, I hadn't noticed the cat until I had almost stepped on it. I was able take some photographs and then cross the road without the cat moving away.

Human cat perch

I've seen this video, filmed in July 2008, appear several times these past few days:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExZ0i04pSeY

It's certainly an interesting routine; I don't think I've heard of a cat that willingly sat atop a person's head. Cats are strange (and lovable) creatures, but this is weird even by feline standards!

There is no way that our cat Smudge could ever have done anything similar. Assuming he had ever developed the desire to balance himself on top of someone's head, his sheer size and weight would have been too much for that person; more likely, though, he would have just fallen off and taken the towel with him.

Poppy, the world's oldest cat

I was saddened to hear that Poppy, the world's oldest cat, has died:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/27794411

Guinness World Records recognised Poppy as the world's oldest cat last month. It's saddening that Poppy died and more so because she only recently attained the title of world's oldest cat. On the bright side, Poppy lived a long and happy life, which is the best life any pet can have.

Poppy

February 1990 - June 2014

Black and white cat

My brother noticed this local black and white cat; I took a quick picture:

While I've posted a few cat pictures here in the past and don't mind cats coming into our yards, I'm in two minds about outdoor cats: on one hand, them being outside does give them freedom to roam, which cats are suited for. On the other, domestic cats have longer lives when they live indoors; after all, both of our cats were indoor cats and they live past 12 years of age.

Still, this black and white cat is beautiful; I hope it returns to a good home every night.

The runt of the litter

I read this article about a 27-year-old male cat here in the United Kingdom, named Wadsworth. The article reminded me about our cat Smudge; like Wadsworth, Smudge was also the runt of his litter, although Smudge was a healthy cat at birth and died just shy of 13, whereas Wadsworth is still alive at more than twice that age.

As enjoyable as the article was, it did bring back strong feelings of wanting my cats to still be around. Not every article about cats does this to me, but some, like this one, do.

Ginger cat in the snow

The ginger cat is still around; I last saw it during the snow from a couple of weeks ago:

The cat was probably looking at me even though I was photographing it from an upstairs window. It made a delightful change to get a few pictures of its face!

Cat mayor

I was amused and impressed to read about the mayor of Talkeetna, Alaska. He was elected to the position fifteen years ago when a write-in campaign was mounted for him; he defeated the main candidates, with the people of Talkeetna being fed up with the usual types running. His victory is all the more impressive considering the fact he is a cat.

Stubbs has spent nearly all of his life as the Mayor of Talkeetna. Unfortunately his title is only honorary, owing to his non-human status, but the people of Talkeetna are happy with this and have continued to re-elect Stubbs since his initial election to the mayoralty. He is highly popular in the town and has turned out to be a great tourist attraction for the place; even better, he seems to love all the residents of Talkeetna, regardless of who they are.

Perhaps it's time to start electing more cats as mayors. Could you imagine New York City or London having a cat each as their mayors?

Resting orange cat

The orange cat we frequently see around here was recently taking a break in a place that was not safe for it to rest at for too long! Even so, I took a nice picture of it slumped where it was comfortable for a quarter of an hour:

Have no worries, the orange cat moved! It became interested in a bird that decided to enter its territory (the bird got away, too).

Local ginger cat

A feline named Fudge was the cat we saw the most frequently during our stay in Littleport. When we first moved to our place in Northamptonshire we hardly saw any cats at all, but recently there has a been a beautiful ginger cat wandering around our neighbourhood.

The picture was taken with my main camera through a window on the top floor of our home. It has been good to see a cat in the area around our house: we have seen several cats when goings on walks through the town, but this one is the most prominent at our location.

The significance of "Fur the Color of Dark Grey Skies"

Fur the Color of Dark Grey Skies was written in September of 2002, two weeks before I wrote Colors of Tabby. While Colors of Tabby was about our cat Tinker, Fur the Color of Dark Grey Skies was about our Smudge, our other cat. That the title uses both an American-spelt word and a British-spelt word was likely an oversight, but now I think it actually works for the poem.

There are no nonsensical verses for "filler" in Fur the Color of Dark Grey Skies: each line is about a different aspect of Smudge. For example, the title is a reference to his fur, which was a grey color; and "Feral though domestic" refers to the fact that his mother was a feral cat, although Smudge himself was domestic. When we lived in Patterson, California, one of our neighbors came across Smudge's mother and litter in her yard, and she took them inside her house to look after them (the kittens anyway, I am not sure about the mother). All of the kittens were given new homes, and we were the family that received Smudge (and it was my Dad that named him).

Smudge had a different personality to Tinker, but he was still very good-natured and a character; while Tinker was happy to meet people, Smudge would hide in either mine or my brother's bed; it took him time to get to know someone new, but when he did feel comfortable with them coming to our house he would greet and even purr for them. Whenever he was given a brush, it took at least two of us to get the job done (he was a large, strong cat, likely because of Maine Coon ancestry in him); if anything, he preferred being bathed to being brushed. He often came into my room and my brother's, and was happy to sleep on either of our beds. Smudge did not have a near-constant purr: he only purred (and it was more of a "rumble" than a purr) if he was in a really good mood or was on someone's bed or lap. One of his habits involved dipping his paw in water and licking it off himself, and later in life found he preferred fresh water (he would lick the bathtub and its curtains, the sinks after recent use, and drink from cups). As for Tinker and Smudge's relationship, the cats did get on well: they would often play and sleep together, as well as occasionally pull some silly stunt that would either confuse or amuse us.

He died on March 6th, 2009, and would have been thirteen years old that May. As Tinker was dying Smudge had developed a serious problem with his kidneys; the condition was critical, and at his age it would have been very difficult to treat him. We were devastated to lose both our cats within a month of each other; as with Tinker, Smudge's life was happy, long, and eventful.

The significance of "Colors of Tabby"

I wrote Colors of Tabby in September of 2002 about our cat Tinker. Tinker was a tabby cat whom we brought with us from the United Kingdom to the United States. She was one of two cats we had while we lived in the United States; I posted previously a rhyme about Smudge, our other cat, here.

Most verses in the poem are about Tinker, although a couple are nonsense purely for rhyming purposes. For example, "Colors of tabby, Partially flabby" refers to the fact she was a tabby and somewhat overweight; "While braver than voles, She’s chased by lizards and forced into gopher holes" is a reference to her hunting voles in the first couple of years or so of life, but at the time of the poem's writing she had completely lost interest in hunting other animals (she backed away from lizards).

As for a bit more about Tinker, she was a social cat: she would often greet people when they came over...there was one time when she had not seen my grandparents for two years, yet when my grandmother entered our house and started talking, Tinker remembered her and came bounding into the living room to enthusiastically greet her. Tinker loved being brushed (especially by me), playing with Smudge, wanting food whenever one of us went into the kitchen or she heard us open the fridge door (she did this more in her later life, and it was our food she was after, not her own), and looking out of open windows (she became an indoor cat when we moved to America, and she came to prefer looking out of open windows to actually going outside). She was a happy cat, as she was near-constantly purring, and it took a lot to anger her.

Yesterday, February 12th, was the third anniversary of Tinker's death, and I decided that a fitting tribute to her would be to post a poem that I wrote a long time ago about her. Tinker's death can be put down to old age, as she was fifteen years old, and would have been sixteen in May of 2009. She had been losing weight for the six months prior to her death, but she had been behaving normally during that time: in fact, she was more active than usual in her last six month of her life until the final two weeks.

It would be great it our pets lived as long as we do, but sadly, they do not. The most we can do is to ensure that they are given the best and happiest lives as possible in the time that they have: Tinker had a good, long, and eventful life.

Smudge and the Fudge Grudge

We used to have two cats, and one of them was named Smudge. A very long time ago I wrote a rhyme about him, and I thought it would be good to share it here:

My cat Smudge,

Always has a grudge,

Against a little bit of fudge.

He said:

"Fudge is made out of sludge,

So do not get me to budge.

For a little bit of fudge".

I cannot remember how old I was when I wrote this.

The ginger and black cat

Remember my posts about the ginger and black cat with the ginger eye patch? Prior to us leaving Littleport, we found out from the lady next door to us that the cat's name is "Fudge".

So far I have not seen any cats at our current location. There have been people with dogs, and judging by the abundance of birds, I doubt there are many cats around this part of our town.

Local cats (again)

The ginger and black cat with the ginger pattern on her eye that I blogged about yesterday outdid herself today: while we were in the living room sorting a few things out, Mum heard something from the kitchen, and when she looked over she spotted the cat coming in through the open window! My brother and I merely watched the cat as she noticed that we were looking at her, and after looking at us for a few seconds, she slowly turned herself around and went back out of the window.

That was not the last of it though: I went to the kitchen window to watch her walk slowly away, but then, another cat jumped up onto the window ledge and attempted to come in, this cat being black with white feet. It took two seconds for this one to notice that I was there, and it jumped back down almost immediately after that.

Both of these occasions were times when I wished I had one of my cameras on hand!

Local cats

I love the local cats around here, and I will miss them when we move. While there are quite a few of them around, three of them stand our: there is a white and gray one, which we are sure is a male; and two ginger and black patterned cats, both of which we think are female. The gray one rarely goes near our house, but we see him nearly every day at the nearby homes, but the two female cats often come to our house, climb on our fence, and go in our backyard (one of them even came running into our house once!) It is fun to watch the cats interact with each other, or to watch them watch other cats and people.

Here is a short video I took a couple of weeks ago of one of the female cats while she was on our kitchen window ledge and looking into the house. She can be distinguished from the ginger pattern over her right eye...a feature the other ginger and black cat does not have.

Look at her big eyes and lovely pattern...she is a wonderful cat!