Like many cat lovers, I have a house full of cat paraphernalia. Cat figurines, cat pictures, cat pillows, cat cookie jars, cat dish towels, cat pot holders, etc. I even have a fancy bar of soap with a cat design and a jam spreader with a cat handle. So, I get the whole cat object thing. This…this is just too much, even for me. I don’t think I’d even drive it down a country road after dark.

Photo found on www.peopleofwalmart.com.

…this little kitty entered our lives.

I was reading in bed when the phone rang around 10 p.m. on October 30, 2006. David said he was bringing home “a temporary house guest.” I said, “Okay,” thinking some kid he worked with needed a couch to crash on. Instead of a teenager, he brought in a box. When I opened the lid, I saw the scruffiest, dirtiest, hissiest little kitten I’d ever seen. She was only around six weeks old. Apparently, someone had abandoned her in the parking lot where David works. Who knows how long she was out there, but she sure was hungry.

That was then, this is now. She’s turned into a super-sweet chunky-dunk of a cat who sleeps under my right arm every night. She’s the best thing David ever brought home from work.

So today’s her third anniversary of living with us. Happy A-Day, Simone!

Wrap steel wool around your torso, throw in some kibble, and go to your Halloween party as a cat puke.

I’ve had many cats over the years, and each one’s “meow” was different, just like each person’s voice and fingerprint are unique. There’s different meow’s for different occasions, as well. The feed me meow. The bird-watching meow. The you’d-better-stop-rubbing-my-belly meow. Then there’s the all-purpose meow, which is a cat’s basic conversational voice. Here’s a sample from past and present cats:

Owain: Ra-oooo
Faberette: Mee-ooup
Dougie: Mmmmmph
Simone: Reh
Thomas: Boodle-doodle-do

Thomas’s “get out the laser light” meow sounds like he’s saying “maw-ma.” Entertaining, to say the least.

This is why we kneel on the floor and scoop their litterboxes.

Put on your party hats ’cause October 29 is National Cat Day.

Note to my three fur-urchins: This is not a day of cat worship and adulation, so don’t expect breakfast in bed!

…I munched the fur off my tummy.

Does your cat do this? Chew the fur off of his/her tummy? I’ve had several cats do this, with Dougall being the most recent. Cats do this sometimes because of stress or parasites, but they also do it because they’re allergic to something in their environment. That was the case with two former cats of mine. Some allergen was bothering them, making their skin itch. The vet prescribed an over-the-counter antihistamine, and it did the job. I’m trying that on Dougall now and so far am having limited success. He’s solidly behind the “Bald Is Beautiful” campaign.

Dougall has gorgeous fur. Long, silky, soft, beautiful fur. It’s a travesty what he’s done…like taking a crayon to Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. And I know…oh, I know…that the missing fur will reappear as a Brillo pad-size cat puke. It’s just a matter of time.{sigh}

Seems the AARP may want to spin off a sister organization, the AARP-II. According to an article in today’s MSNBC, dogs’ and cats’ lifespans are keeping pace with their human caretakers’. In short, genetics and nutrition are the main factors behind the increased lifespan of our pets. I would argue that the growing prevalance of keeping cats indoors also has added years to kitties’ lives. I’ve had two cats to reach 19 and several others live for 15, 16, and 17 years.

Guess it’s time to open an IRA for Spot and Fluffy.

Read the whole article to learn more.

…it’s falling apart, but they love it. It’s the feline equivalent of Martin Crane’s favorite armchair (for you Frazier fans), and it makes me think of an old car up on blocks in a redneck’s driveway.

But “this old scratching house” was given to me by a dear friend when her last cat died. It’s been enjoyed and scratched to pieces by kitties who were young when I first brought it home and who grew old and have passed on. And now yet another generation of cats are scratching it, hiding in it, and climbing on it.

I’m guessing it will be a fixture in my office room until the last fiber of carpet is clawed off.

We’re under construction.

When Catpuke returns, we’ll be a blog. You can look forward to wild and woolly tales of the dark and humorous side of living with cats. And there will be plenty!