We want out -- the freedom of the woods.

Dear George,

We are two cats living in a beautiful cottage Up-State New York. (Actually we are four cats but our mother and one sister are camera shy.) We have a BIG front yard and a bigger wooded backyard.

Our human “mama” found our mother pregnant and abandoned in the woods, so she took her inside her heart and home. We have been born in this cottage and our human is absolutely lovely. She takes turns with her sister to serve us.

We get lots of visitors up here: human friends, cats from New York (we get along very well with them) and some strange looking guys as the one in the picture.

We would like to go outside to “meet and greet” them, but our humans worry that we might get hurt. We are allowed to go out but under supervision. No nights spent in the wild! George, we get lots of birds visiting us. All kind of birds!

Can you imagine the opportunity we are missing here? Do you think it can be harmful to meet our visitors?

The Cats from Up-State NY

Dear Up-State NY cats,

What a great outdoors and what a great photo... You'd be safe from those strange looking guys and they would be safe from you. You'd be safe from most of the birds - though perhaps a big bird of prey might be a danger. Here in the UK, small kittens are at risk from golden eagles (in Scotland), perhaps buzzards and possibly red kites.

All us cats would like to go outside and get in some proper hunting. Not so much meet and greet as meet and pounce! Most of us prefer mousing but many of us will take the occasional small bird or fledgling. Some hunt young rats and young rabbits. Some cats even hunt snakes (Clari for one - see an earlier post). So yes, of course, you want to go outside.

However there are real dangers to all cats that are allowed outside. Probably the greatest danger is cars - in the UK some estimates say as many as one in 4 cat deaths are road traffic accidents. Feral dogs or dogs that have been trained to chase cats are another common danger. Then there are also foxes, raccoons, and skunks. These are less likely to take on a healthy alert cat but might jump one if they thought they could get away with it. Finally, there are coyotes (not sure if they are in Up-state New York). They would definitely attack and eat a unwary cat.

Should your humans let you out? It's a difficult decision for them but if they do, make sure you are home at twilight and night when the predators are more likely to be around the outside of your house. I have always been an outside (as well as indoor) cat because I am a keen hunter but in the USA many more people keep their cats indoors. Sad for them. Good luck for mice!

George

PS. Some more cats and deer photos will appear this Saturday, thanks to Oscar Snuggles' human pets.

Of men, rats and ratatouille.

Dear George,

You won’t believe your ears what I’m going to tell you! I really think that “humans” have been somehow “genetically modified” – at least mine!

Can you believe that my humans were watching a movie entitled “Ratatouille”? Watching a movie about vegetarian food is ok since they are vegetarians…but watching a movie about a RAT cooking vegetarian food for people? Phew! Phew! Phew!

Can you believe that actually someone made a movie about a rat cooking this famous veggies stew from Provence (France) and that people (in the movie) were killing themselves to get a bite? And my “humans” were in tears by the end of the movie?

IN TEARS over food cooked by a RAT? Are they genetically modified with rat DNA?

So, I decided to save them – I’m taking cooking classes. Look at me among eggplants and zucchini! I’ll cook them a ratatouille! Any other vegetarian suggestions?

Love

Fluffy

Dear Fluffy,

As an outdoor cat, my recipe for ratatouille is as follows:

GEORGE'S RATATOUILLE FOR CATS

One young rat.

One mouthful of grass or straw as garnish.

One human scream.

First catch your rat being careful not to pounce on a really big one that will give you a horrendous bite. The grass or straw are the optional garnish, which may go into your mouth as you grab the rat. If not, do not worry. They are not essential. The human scream is. This occurs when you bound through the cat flap with the rat struggling and alive in your mouth. Deposit the rat in the house and watch it climb up vertical walls. It does this splendidly, falling back on to the floor when it reaches the ceiling. Screaming human just makes it very exciting and worthwhile. Eat rat when it becomes exhausted - which may be several hours and a lot of hunting time later.

I have done this several times to great effect. The best time was when the rat litereally ran up the wall, Celia caught it as it fell using a Wellington boot, threw rat and boot into the garden, where I caught up with it. Unfortunately she then spoiled everything by slamming the cat flap shut just before I was bringing it back into the garden. Humans are awful spoilsports.

Love George

PS. I offered her the rats. Thought she might find them tasty. No gratitude at all. However I do not do carry-out or take-away (see comments). In principle, I do not share. The exceptions are offering Celia a rat and allowing her to sleep on my bed even though she takes up a lot of room.

Rabbit and cat - is the rabbit safe?

Dear George,
My name is Tutu and I am a lop-eared human - no, sorry, a lop-eared house bunny! My stable mate is Frederico the Cat. You may have met him already. I am 10 years old and he is a young whipper-snapper.
My humans seem to be very fond of him but he is a little b.....! I wish I could train him but he won't listen to me or obey anybody. Look at him in the photo. He thinks he's some great movie director!
What can I do? Can I trade him in? What do you think?
Hugs
Tutu


Dear Tutu
You have a bit of a problem.... Or you might have. Kittens brought up with house rabbits probably think of them as family and are probably going to be safe with them. Probably. That's the rub.
My attitude to rabbits, the natural cattitude, is to stalk, pounce, grab and eat them. In that order. It is literally hard wired into my brain. There's a neuroscientist, Jaak Panksepp, who has revealed that when you stimulate the seek-and-reward area of the brain, rats sniff and forage around, cats stalk and pounce. It's just the most enjoyable thing in life for felines. It is what a cat does.
So, your human shouldn't leave you alone with Frederico - just in case. (Any more than a large dog should be left alone with a baby or a toddler). Yes, it is probably safe almost all the time. But again it's that probably and almost. If you suddenly scuttled away extra fast, seeing you running might set off Frederico's chase instinct.
I don't think you should trade him in. As long as your human is sensible and doesn't let you play unsupervised, you will be safe. She should make sure that you are always in your crate or den when she is out of the house. Of course, if you were a giant rabbit, you could probaby chase and harass Frederico. But a French lop, which I think you are, just isn't big enough to turn the tables.
Cats and house rabbits can live together but only if the humans never forget that the cat is the predator and the rabbit is its prey.
Love (and I would love you in a gastronomic kind of way)
George

Cars and roads and cats - I don't get it

Hi George,
I'm Fred and I live with Ginger (who is ginger) and with Ben who is black and doesn't like us younger cats very much. My hunting ground is across the road from where I live, and where the cars are parked. I find the cars handy for hiding under when strangers pass by. So I pop back and forward across the road most days and most nights.
Why does my human worry about this? I know there is traffic. I kind of don't bother about cars. What are they? Nothing much to me. What is this human anxiety about, George? I don't get it.
Love
Fred
Dear Fred,
You right, you don't get it. Neither do I. These metal objects that hurtle down the roads are very mysterious. Most of the time during the day, you and I can manage to avoid them. The speed they do, however, is very confusing. I mean, nothing in nature hurtles along at 50 miles an hour. We cats were designed to avoid big predators like wolves or lions. We are not designed by nature to cope with metal boxes like cars.
At night we don't even have the right kind of eyes for it. Car headlights dazzle us. We can't judge how fast the car is coming at us. We can't see it properly. So most of us just make a run for it. Which is what worries our human pets. They fear we may get killed (as lots of cats do). Of course, if we had them properly under control, we would just ban all cars. But even that might threaten our catfood supplies.
It's tricky. I love hunting at night. I love the moonlit stalk. The pounce in the shadows. Yet crossing the road is a horrible danger. Make your human keep you in at night.
Love George
PS. Posts may be a bit erratic. My secretary's partner is in hospital, so she is spending a lot of time with him instead of doing her duties.

How to dazzle a human being

Dear George,

My name is Marti and I think I’m a gorgeous cat! I LOVE glamour! I love to be pampered and cared for.

I love “fame & glory”. I love sleeping on my human’s chest!

Hope no one will find this weird.

I’m a rescue from a local shelter. I was rescued by my human along with other two cats but, I’m the only one loving glamour. I’m the only one loving caviar and a sniff of champagne! I love shaggy covers

But I don’t think my human understands this. The other day I tried to shred my cover (see picture) into a “fluffier” one. It was taken as a bad thing.

George, only you, as a human behavior specialist can tell me how can I razzle-dazzle my human?

In awe

Marti

Dear Marti,

Wow. Champagne, caviar, you really do do the luxury life. You surely razzle dazzle me - and you are the right colour too. We black cats should stick together. I am a cat who is into huntin', rattin', and rabbitin' (sorry Harve), and if it wasn't for that I would ask you to come over some time - snip, or not!
Shredding. We all do it. We all love it. Personally I think Celia's curtains look all the better for their frilly ends. This very day she lunched with a fashionista who was wearing a shawl full of shredded bits. Just like the effect that I put the bed valance so successfully, when I wake her up with a well timed morning scratch.
I have to admit that the business of beautifully shredded furniture is something that we cats find instinctively and artistically satisfying. But I don't think any of us, no matter how good we are at communicating with humans, this simple minded species, has ever been able to explain the sheer beauty of it - the almost musical sound of the material tearing, and the aesthetically pleasing movement of the graceful downward strop, followed by the sheer exaggerated fluffiness of the resulting fabric. Wonderfully pleasing to the feline ear, paw and eye.
But they don't get it, Marti. They just don't understand it at all. Sometimes I think that they don't really have artistic natures. They are blind to beauty, impervious to scent, unable to distinguish the subtleties of body language, the minute alterations of the tail that mean so much...
I have also been unable to persuade Celia to pay attention to the zen patterns I draw on the litter inside the litter tray. I did a beautiful Japanese garden effect this morning. What did she do? Just scooped it out. But I love the stupid species. Somehow the sheer pathos of their limited abilities makes me fond of them.
Love
George
P. S. I haven't really answered your question on how to razzle dazzle humans, I suppose. Just be yourself, Marti. You are so purrrrfectly beautiful.

Introducing the sticky crunch of newts

Dear George,
When I first came into the kitchen with a newt thrashing about between my gums, my humans were – heaven knows why – shocked rather than grateful. Even though I have no teeth I managed to munch it with my gums and swallow it down. I made my trademark hunting cry of “marrp” in celebration.
Later I saw my companion Whicky Wuudler batting something about and stamping on it – he’s a real back paw stamper and his hocks are legendary for dispatching moles. Sure enough he’d got a newt too – only just a tiny one. The humans tried to interfere AGAIN. He ate it, except for one tiny foreleg. Next Oliver brought a live one into the house, whapped it around growling and took off at high speed when our humans interfered. He ate it too!
Why can’t they understand…. Newts are good to eat and fun to hunt. We bring them in to show them off to our two apes. Whicky left that leg out of the goodness of his heart so that they could have a nibble. Did they? They did not. What's more, a day or two later, the newts had totally disappeared! What’s wrong with these apes, George?
Love Gerry

Dear Gerry,

Many humans, or apes as you so nicely call them, seem to think that newts produce a foul tasting mucus to deter predators. They don't. I think they have them confused with toads, which do taste horrible, though frogs are quite nice if you like that sort of thing. Some humans even eat them - though they are so unsporting as to buy them frozen in frenchy supermarkets rather than going out and hunting their own. All too typical of this species. You call them apes: I call them Homo stupido.

Do you actually fish your newts out of the water, or do you just wait till they come on land and get them then? I know of cats that will clear a small garden pond of all goldfish. Fanny brought in a goldfish, left it on the kitchen floor where it was found by the humans. They placed in a tank and it survived for a further 15 years. It made interactive piscal TV for Fanny!

And I even heard of a cat that brought home a two pound koi carp, which was probably worth thousands of pounds if it had the right markings. Its humans never dared to confess to the crime.

Newts, frogs and toads will all survive cats (apart from the occasionally unlucky individual) , if there are enough hiding places for them in a garden - long grass, wood piles, stone walls etc.

I have never tried back stamping. Can your apes take a video of it so I can post it?

Love George

Do books make me an intellectual?

Dear George,
I have decided to become an intellectual cat and the reason is that I’m fed up with my female human. I can’t stand her any longer telling everybody that my sister Cayenne is “the intellectual one” and that I’m “the frivolous” one that needs to be entertained. Well, since Cayenne decided to find her “inner kitten” ….I decided to become an intellectual and teach my snotty female human a lesson!
Firstly, I started sleeping on books as you can see in the picture. It’s a bit “tough” but I hope this way I’ll accumulate more knowledge quicker.
Secondly, I think I should “shred” some curtains, art, something in the house…just to tell her that I don’t like it. Why can’t she have a normal painting, something like a big, fat mouse next to a piece of cheese? Even that chubby, smiling woman (the one who smiles, no matter from what angle you look at her) would do it! But no, she likes “melting clocks” or men flying hanging on umbrellas. And her favorite?…that guy looking in a mirror and seeing his back! See what I have to put up with?
George, I badly need your help to punish this snob! Or should I do something to impress her? What should I do next?
Love
Fluffy
Dear Fluffy,
Sleeping on books is a good idea. It's high up which gives an immediate impression of superiority. Its draught free. Looks good, looks very good, and if the books are large enough it is not too uncomfortable. But the big question is - which books? I can't read the titles so I am not sure.
In an ideal world the books we would choose would be Purrsuasion, Scratch 22, Mouse Catcher in the Rye, The Cat of Mounte Christo, Great Catsby, The Cat is a Lonely Hunter, Bleak Mouse, Plain Tails from the Hills, Tail of Two Kitties, Goodnight Mr Tomcat, Middlemog, The Brothers Catamazov, Zen and the Art of Mog Maintenance, and The Purrsuit of Love. Just one fully human book - A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, because in it Mark Twain suggests installing a royal family made up of cats.
Shredding, as you can so plainly see, an art form in itself. Most of us favour the downward scratch at the back of loose covered armchairs, but several have experimented with wallpaper and report a really beautiful effect. Curtains can be more difficult, as they swing loose, but with experience a completely frilled effect can be achieved. Finally, do not forget carpet. There's lots of it, and horizontal scratching, once you get used to it, can play its part in Home Decoration.
Finally, the litter tray. The philosophical and beautiful patterns of a Japanese gravel garden can be achieved in most litters, though wood and paper litter refuses to co-operate. Dig deep. A pleasant scatter effect can be achieved from an open litter tray. Performance art - think about digging, using the tray then rushing round the house scattering litter as you go. It's the litter skitter.
Happy Scratching. Happy Digging.
Love George.
Please suggest some more book titles in the comments. There are some that have made me laugh out loud already. Puss Puss has contributed this photo of himself on the book by Churchill, the country's leader and a good inspiration for all cats anxious to take their place as leader of their household.

Dragons for cats - the lizard option.

Dear George
There was talk of dragons earlier. I think you said you"d like to get a crack at a small dragon. Well, I have. Here's a photo of one of the tiny dragons I hunt relentlessly at home in the Pyrenees. Ok, so they don't breathe fire - the hillside would be alight in a second if they did. But lizards do look dragon-like.
Oddly enough my humans do not appreciate my efforts. Well, I say oddly enough, but you know what they are. Humans don't do gratitude. I've tried bringing these in to the kitchen and they just seem to shudder.
Yours
Lolo
Dear Lolo,
It looks pretty odd to me. I am used to mice - nice warm furry things. These lizards don't have any fur at all. it reminds me - in so far as it reminds me of anything, - the snakes that Clarri kills. He also comes from the same part of the world as you. His humans are just downright terrified even though they are much bigger than she is.
Interesting that they don't like lizards any more than they like mice. I caught a particularly large and succulent one the other day. I wondered whether they would like it better absolutely fresh, so I took it in while it was still alive. Nearly lost it through the cat flap. But I decided I would give it to Celia in her office.
The effect was not what I hoped but it was quite amusing. She let out a tiny shriek and jumped over me and the mouse (who was sitting on the carpet looking stunned), ran downstairs, ran back upstairs with a dishcloth, threw it on the mouse and grabbed the wrapped up mouse, ran downstairs again at full speed, and threw the package outside.
Were my efforts appreciated? No. Were they noticed? A big YES. Clearly mouse delivery works as a way of getting our pets to react and notice us.
Love George without Dragon.
For a photo of Clarri killing snakes look at Thursday, April 17, 2008 of this blog.

Look what I brought in... and where I put itl

Dear George,
This evening I brought home a frog from the garden and placed it in my waterbowl in the kitchen where it swam about most charmingly and gazed up at me out of the water. I was admiring it and experimenting with tapping it lightly on the head when to my amazement my human swooped down and covered the bowl up and took it out to the garden and emptied it. Can you explain why? Does this indicate she has some serious character flaw or just very low intelligence?
Yours mystified,
Chubby (Fluffums D'Wuffums)

Dear Chubby,
Humans don't get hunting. They have the predatory instinct but it is in a very warped and dysfunctional form. For a start, we are proper carnivores-only and they are omnivores. Like chimpanzees they eat fruit and veg as well as meat. We are designed for a meat-only diet. So our hunting instinct is intact, irresistable and highly efficient. Mice, rabbits, frogs... whatever, we hunt it.
Humans used to hunt but nowadays, instead, they shop. Shopping is the new hunting. It's really bad for them - sitting at a desk and ordering stuff online. Even before the net, they only walked a few yards from shop to shop. They ought to be out there slaughtering mammoths.
Of course, your human is of very low intelligence. They all are. No doubt you love her, and you want to think that she understands everything you say, but frankly she (and they) don't. They are dumb animals given to meaningless vocalising Blah blah blah. So it isn't a character flaw in her that she didn't understand the frog. It's just lack of mind. (For the zoologists among us cats, it's been proved that humans don't have theory of mind. Extensive tests with tail and ear movements have failed to show that they can really understand what we feel.)
So frogs... A sensible human would have taken it out of the bowl and eaten it with garlic as French humans do. Your human took it away and let it go. If she'd been a cat, she'd have let it go in order to have the pleasure of catching it again. But being human, she didn't. She did the first half of the sequence and then, in her mindless human way, forgot the second half. They can't concentrate on anything more than a few minutes, Chubby.
If you keep on bringing in frogs, you MIGHT be able to train her to leave them in the bowl but I doubt it. Just accept the things you cannot change - human limitations.

George

Of Mice and Men!

Dear George,
Here I’m back with my report (as promised!). Reading your comments gave me an excellent idea - to test my humans hunting abilities to see if they are any good. ☺
Not being as altruistic as my sister, I think that having them working around the clock (for us, cats, of course) its’ just normal! I agree that work is for men and dogs, not cats! Remember John Lennon singing “It’s been a hard day’s night and I’ve been working like a dog? See what I mean? Man & dog = perfect match for hard work ☺
Anyway, here is what happened Sunday! I started by playing Beatles’s song, just to get them used to the idea of hard work! Guess what! They didn’t get the message….they just enjoyed the music! Phew!
Then Cayenne told me that “Of Mice and Men” was playing somewhere downtown.
Excellent! – Seeing this should give them the idea that men hunt for cats!
So, I rushed and got tickets for all four of us. What a disappointment! First of all, it was not about “mice” (I don’t know what Steinbeck was thinking of when he wrote it); it was about a man who took a woman for a mouse and petted her to death! Phew! Phew! Phew! THIS WAS NOT HUNTING! I don’t know what it was, but my male human seemed pretty touched and my female human (guess) was crying! Crying? Why? One does not cry over a mouse; one eats the mouse! Then, in despair, I said to my sister “let’s give it a last try”. So, we decided to take them on a night hunting spree! When the night came, we took them to a good place (where we knew few mouse holes) and showed them where to hide and wait! I was holding my breath waiting to see the first little mouse caught by my humans! BIG, BIG, BIG disappointment! I could not believe it! THEY ARE USELESS! They lack the passion, the patience and the enthusiasm for hunting. He was completely restless and she was giggling every minute.
I swear I could hear mice laughing at us! George, how can you train humans to hunt for cats? Did you train Celia? Did she catch anything yet? I mean….she’s your secretary; after all….this should be part of her job, right? Oscar Snuggles what about your staff? The Island Cats? Let me hear from your experience guys!
Love,
Fluffy
Dear Fluffy,
Training humans to hunt mice is the only area of training where I have absolutely failed. Like you and your sister, I have tried. Over and over again. I started by bringing home corpses. I thought that perhaps they would eat them and get the taste for it, so to speak. Then I tried bringing home the corpses and playing with them to give the humans the idea. I would throw them up into the air and pursue them. Play hunting - here's a photo of me in action near the dustbin. It should have been obvious to them what to do but they didn't join in.
Then, I went the whole hog and started bringing in living mice through the cat flap. It seemed to me that these would be irresistable. After all, I find them irresistable. I put them in the kitchen, the living room, the utility room and, if the cat flap hadn't been closed at night, I would have brought them upstair and placed them on the bed in the middle of the night. My predecessor Fat Ada used to do that.
Mice obviously weren't hitting the spot. Perhaps they were too small. So I brought in a couple of rats. The first one jumped out of my mouth before I got into the kitchen. The second I got safely through the cat flap and it, very enticingly, ran up the corner of the kitchen wall almost to ceiling level. Celia noticed that one and held a welly underneath it, into which it fell. Then what did she do? Chucked the whole welly, rat and all, into the garden. In one final effort I brought in a couple of baby rabbits. She "rescued" these. Why? I can't imagine. She's always complaining about the way they eat her veg.
But humans aren't rational. What is so silly, and so touching, about this intellectually limited species is that they think they are. All in all, I've given up trying to teach them to hunt mice. Let me know if you have any success in the future. I never have. I admire your persistence and your patience with them.
George
I've given up.

I hate jogging; I’m a yoga girl!

Dear George,
I believe that my wellbeing is in big danger. Let me tell you why I think so!
This past Sunday, I and my sister, Fluffy, woke up our male human at 6 am
to serve us breakfast, which he did willingly and then he went right back to sleep.
By 7 am I felt like playing so I start calling out on our female human.
I heard her saying “it’s Sunday - I want to sleep”. First of all, how is a Sunday different than any other day of the week? If you ask me….it’s not! Then…why should they sleep longer on the weekends? They shouldn’t! So, I completely ignored her comments and kept calling out on her.
Finally she called my name and there I was….happy, hoping that we’ll play. I jumped right on top of her (as she was sleeping on her left side). And….guess what? Instead of getting a kiss and a rub, I heard “Oh! dear…you are getting too heavy” and then she told the male human “we have to do something about this; we have to cut back on her food and exercise her more”. WHAT? Is she crazy? I WAS PARALIZED! SPEECHLESS!
I panicked but I was thinking fast; what George would advise me now? What should I do? Punish her? No! Reward! That’s it! George would tell me to reward this crazy creature. So, I pretended that I didn’t hear her comments and I started grooming her right arm. I did this very thoroughly trying to find a flea or something, so she’ll realize I saved her life. But, instead of showing any gratitude…I guess she felt offended by me assuming that she can still have fleas after taking a shower the night before.
Well, I got so put off by her attitude! Such arrogance! Then...it hit me! What on earth did she mean by “having me exercise more”? Running up and down the stairs, like Fluffy? Jogging? I hate jogging – I’m a yoga girl! And she knows that! Each time she does yoga, there I am helping her. For example; when she does the Lion’s pose (the one where she bends forward sticking her tongue out – yak!) I quickly clamp on her back trying to push so she’ll bend forward properly. Or if she’s doing Cobra (when she lies down flat on her belly) I quickly jump on her back just to make sure that she stays still and holds her breath. Do you think that she ever thanked me for this? Nooooo! And….between you and me…I don’t even think she’s serious about yoga because when I’m trying to help she starts laughing until she “shakes me” off her back. Insensitive traitor; that’s what she is!
Not to mention that later on the day, she said something about “fasting”. I mean – I know Easter is close but, George, do cats fast? If yes, for what reasons? Religion? Or, what else? I wish humans could express their thoughts better without inventing new words like “lean protein”, “less carbs”, etc. What is wrong with them? We, cats, are extremely sophisticated and yet, can express ourselves in simple thoughts and words.
What I’m going to do George? I like to eat, sleep and read! Now I have to watch out for myself and see what these creatures are up to.
So, dear George, here is a very serious question?
How can I lose few pounds (just to get these monsters off my back) without cutting back on my food, fasting or exercising more?
As I said, my wellbeing is in danger, so I will hold my breath until you’ll answer.
Hugs
Cayenne

Dear Cayenne,
Glad to see you are taking human training seriously, but I am very worried about your human's attitude re avoirdupois, or being well found, or being just ever so slightly teenily weenily overweight. It's a pretty worrying moment when humans start worrying not about their own weight (they do that all the time if they are female) but about OUR weight... It is no business of theirs.
Cats do not fast. Not ever. Indeed if they are forcibly fasted, they are in danger of hepatic lipidosis (if they are fat). Humans can fast safely. Dogs can fast safely But cats can't. Even a vet, that vilest of human creatures, will tell her that - luckily.
You could lost weight by the following quite enjoyable methods
1. Eat more protein and less carbs. Purrsuade your human to buy a better class of cat food with nore protein in it. This is done by refusing to eat cheaper food. Well, refusing to eat it while they are in the same room. Look unhappy. Cover it up as if it was something nasty in the litter tray. Look hungry. Quite often they will try and feed you something else. Something better and better means more meat less starch. The carbs in cat food are just there becaue they are cheap. We cats don't need them. There is one disadvantage, better cat food is tastier, so you might eat more so it might not work.
2. Start hunting your humans as prey. Ambush them round corners, run up and down the stairs after them. The running is not boring if you are doing it as part of predation or hunting. Treat them as if they were gigantic mice. Yes, I know its exercise but its fun. If you catch and wound them they will make a delightful shriek.
3. Purrsuade them to let you out to hunt real mice.
4. Purrsuade them to play more games with string with you. Start bringing them things to throw for you. I know dogs do this and we cats really hate imitating these servile beasts, but it is one area where they have got hold of a bright idea. Fetch. When you take a small ball to a human, pause, look cute, and drop it at their feet, they often respond by throwing it. And it's fun to chase.
George.

Mouse deposits - the way to stop financial meltdown?

Dear George,

High finance and the arrogance of merchant bankers, who call themselves the Masters of the Universe, usually don't interest me. We cats are Masters of the Universe. We all know that. We are the most successful species in the world, inhabiting not just every continent but also every small island. However - and it is a big however - I am beginning to worry about the cat food deposit in my human's kitchen. Is it safe? Or will it disappear in the financial meltdown.

Henry

Dear Henry,

Times are worrying. Very worrying. Here in the UK we cats have been directly affected. Cats Protection, the feline charity, has lost 11 million pounds that they deposited in a bank owned by the bankrupt Icelandic Bank. This will compromise their plans to set up more rescue centres for needy felines.

We all need to pull together. We cats can help our humans if we look for creative and useful solutions to the mess produced by this, the most incompetant of species. We can start by hunting our own food, to eke out those vital kitchen deposits. Every mouse, lizard, fly and rabbit caught and eaten by us will make the tinned or dry cat food go further.

Better still, deposit stuff into the food bank. Catch a mouse and store it for later. Currently I have deposited a live mouse under Celia's kitchen cooker. When she shines a torch there, she can see it moving about. The silly woman doesn't realise that this is food. By depositing it live I have ensured that it does not take up room in the fridge. It leaves no carbon footprint at all. This is green food storage.

I also put one in the utility room and, deciding on a 3 am snack last night, I re-caught it. It was fun. Actually I wasn't that hungry, so I just ate the head and deposited the body on the landing just outside the bedroom door. She nearly, but not quite, stepped on it in the morning. Did she congratulate me? Was she pleased at my efforts to help the household budget? No. She swore.

Nevertheless, I am a cat with a plan to put an end to financial meltdown. Help your humans during the stockmarketl crash. Catch a mice and deposit it in your own personal home food bank.

George

PS She's back. Miaowing about cats that barber each other. If you can help her with information, or if you want to send her a photo, contact her via her website, http://www.celiahaddon.com

How do we cats vote?

Dear George,

How should we felines vote? Republican or Democrat? Tory or Labour? And why don't we have a vote? I should like to have a paw in the business of choosing the human leader.

Lucy.

Dear Lucy,

Don't even think about voting. Humans spend hours bothering themselves about politics. We cats are much more sensible. We just get on with our own affairs. However, in theoretical terms your question is an interesting one.

AS an English cat, I am not so sure about the differences between Republicans or Democrats though obviously my colour predisposes me to take an interest in Mr Obama. On the other hand that Sarah woman is obviously a terrific hunter. Did you see that bearskin! And moose not mere mice!  What she brings home beats any of the mice or rabbits I have brought home.

We cats have been described as selfish. I would call us sensibly self interested. And independant. As such we might vote Tory rather than Labour. We don't do altruism except for our own families. We don't look after poorer cats. We don't share. 

On the other hand we do exist on handouts. I mean I don't actually pay for my cat food. My humans do that. So perhaps I am part of the dependancy culture. So on that score we might vote Labour.

What do the rest of you think? Please enlighten me.

George.

PS. My secretary is away for a week learning the scientific side of animal behaviour so this is only a short entry.

Humans, not cats, are the true killing machines

Dear George

I spend a lot of time hunting in the nearby hedges, in the village were I live. I brought a mouse home yesterday through the cat flap and there were shrieks as it slipped out of my mouth in the kitchen. My humans don't seem to like the fact that I go hunting almost every day. Yet it's the activity which gives my whole life its joy and meaning.

Yorkshire Patch

Dear Patch,

We all have difficulties with our humans about this one, - that is if we live in a nice family home rather than a barn or stables. Humans like the idea that we keep down the mice numbers but they are also queasy about seeing us doing it. Humans are dreadful hypocrites on this issue.

A few thousand years ago, we noticed that humans needed cats. Indeed mice are the cause of the cat-human relationship. They had started growing grain and building granaries and we moved in. Soon we saw that humans would be better off if we domesticated them, so we moved further into their homes and the close cat-human relationship was off and away. 

However domesticated they are, humans like us don't seem to have lost the killing instinct. Their instinct is worse than ours. We kill mice and usually eat them. They kill each other. That is unimaginable in cat society.

Over the past 9000 years of domestication we have tried to teach them how to live in peace with each other. We keep the peace instinctively. True, there are cat fights over willing females occasionally but more often than not, our toms just line up peacefully for a go. Why fight when there is plenty to go round and our females seem to enjoy it.

We deal with conflict much better than humans do. We avoid it.OK so we do a bit of posturing and hissing but most of the time we just walk round each other. If you look at how cats live together in a home (in a group of unrelated animals which is totally unlike the normal closely related wild cat colony), we manage ourselves by avoiding each other. 

We have our separate beds and favourite places and, unless we are forced to, we eat at seperate times. If we do fight, there may be wounds but we don't kill. We time share rather than sharing - unless we are good friends or relatives in which case we eat together and sleep touching each other.

Humans at low levels of society seem to manage this but once there are thousands of them it all goes wrong. They band together in large packs and slaughter each other. They don't even fight fairly with their feet and hands. They invent weapons which allow themselves to kill each other from thousands of miles away. They even slaughter babies and females. So it is the greatest hypocrisy when they object to the odd dead, or not so dead, mouse.

Yes, we have our hunting instincts. Yes we kill mice and rabbits and lizards and insects. We are predators. But so are humans. They prey on their own kind. We don't kill other cats. They kill each other in the millions. 

Humans could learn from us if they weren't so arrogant.

A word about me....

I am interrupting my normal business of answering questions from other cats, in order to tell you cats out there about me. It is part of a Meme tag game played by my US counterpart, George, and the rest of the crew. (Wow, that is my first link in text!). 

I hope I am playing the game correctly by doing this. My secretary, Celia, is only half competant with the blog format - something I find very embarassing. I keep her on because I don't have the heart to fire her. I am sure many of you cats will share my mixed feelings about my human - I love her, but I do wish she was a bit brighter.

My agony column exists to share with other cats these conflicts of emotion and the real conflicts of interest that we cats have with our humans. Being a human owner takes real commitment. We have to put up with their clumsiness, the inability to sense our true feelings (all that picking up and cuddling when we want to get on with other more important things), and, of course, their ridiculous idea that they own us. Deluded creatures in total denial.

I have added one of my favourite pictures of myself. You may notice that I am black. Black is beautiful, say I. Here in the UK black is also lucky as in lucky black cat. I am here looking at a dragonfly (out of the frame so I have added a small picture of it below) with a view to slaughtering it and then crunching it up. The garden pond has many of these brightly coloured insects and the larger ones make an enticing chitinous noise with their wings. They don't taste very good but the texture is delightful - like pork crackling cut thin enough for a feline to crunch up.

My day starts with waking up Celia at the time of my choosing. Usually that is 6.30am. Her timetable starts at 7.30am which is why I have to go through the bother of waking her. She's particularly difficult to wake at weekends. Indeed she is lucky to be allowed on my bed. She takes up a horrifying amount of room, she breathes and snores very loudly indeed, and keeps changing position trying to find more room for her legs. In some ways I wish I had trained her to use the sofa downstairs but when I first arrived in the house I was a kitten and unable to anticipate the fact that I would need more space.

The rest of my day goes like this - get up, eat food out of bowl, go out, patrol territory and hunt, come back, eat food out of bowl, sleep, go out, patrol and hunt, come back, eat food out of bowl and sleep - repeated numerous times. Occasionally I pause to greet the family - maybe wake Ronnie when he is having his afternoon nap, jump on Celia's word processor or press the keyboard. That sort of thing. Just to show the humans that they matter to me.

And once a week I answer queries about human behaviour from other cats. I would like more of them particularly those reflecting on the silly side of humanity.

Here is my me-me. I've just seen another of those very large dragonflies flitting by so I must go now.  

Cat kills viper - beat that, all you cats out there!

Dear George
My name is Clari and I am a serial viper killer. A great ginger hunter. Of course I catch lots of mice. They just need total patience sitting guarding a mousehole in the fields around. And as for rabbits, there are very very few around here in this part of the Catalan border, but I did once catch a hare that was the same size as me. I brought it into the house via a barred window and two doors which I know how to open. It was a huge hare. Lizards are indeed a mere nothing to me despite their speed. My speed of reaction is phenomenal, quicker than the eye can see at times. It needs to be because I also go for the dangerous ones. Snakes. It's a real rush. The excitement, the adrenaline - there's nothing like it. It is the ultimate hunting moment. A cat has to be quick as lightening not to get bitten. And if you get it wrong, it's death by adder.
Vive la chasse! And then some.
Clariboys
Dear Clari,
You win the all-time award for feline hunting trophies - the George Cross. Due to human laziness on my staff, the actual medal has not yet been cast. I have talked to Celia about this and I will give her another telling off, and get her to jump to it. In the meantime I will put you on the George roll of honour and you will be in my next book. Hunting exploits with this degree of dashing fearlessness should be recognised and immortalised. A dog couldn't do this. It would just end up with a poisonously swollen nose. Only we cats have the swift responses to take on snakes.
I've talked to your human who took the picture. She was scared stiff of getting bitten or (worse still from our point of view) putting you in danger of death by interfering with your strike. She reports that you were cool, perfectly cool. Just as if it was nothing special to get in there with a death dealing reptile. (In the Far East bigger boas actually eat cats whole but vipers just strike in self defence and kill by poison). Your housekeeper and your human butler, Giles, say that they often find mangled bodies of vipers on the patio.
I am sure that cats everywhere will join me in hearty congratulations on a simply terrific bit of feline hunting. Can any feline beat this?
George
PS. The snake is probably a smooth snake, Coronells austriaca or gironida or maybe a juvenile Western whip snake (Coluber). I'm sure you have had vipers too, Clari. But I thought a little zoological ID would be in order.

More on worms and snakes and pets

I have been thinking further thoughts on worms. I reckognise that some people think worms are only for kittens. I know that Orlando the Cat's black son, Tinkle, used to have a pet worm. He called it Wormintrude and it lived in a matchbox. He said he would have it stuffed when it died. But Tinkle was only a kitten after all and he was probably just going through a worm phase. I went through a worm phase as a kitten too.
But even as an adult, I find them mildly interesting, as you can see from this not-very-good picture. Celia was digging some good cow manure (interesting smells) into the veg garden and several worms protruded. I poked them, then took one and put it in the grass. I poked it some more. It wriggled deep into the grass. I poked again and it wriggled in deeper. Not very dramatic. No squeaking. It didn't smell good to eat like a mouse does.
I don't think a worm would make a very satisfactory pet - and indeed Orlando the Marmalade cat thought the worm would quickly bore Tinkle. (The story, Orlando Keeps a Dog, doesn't say what happened to the worm in its matchbox. Perhaps it died of neglect.) I think I might get bored too easily too. Then Celia would have to look after it and for some reason she doesn't like worms.
She is much more interested in snakes. There are some grass snakes in the garden and occasionally I see one swimming in the pond, but I have never caught one. Some cats do. There's a cat I know in the South West of France regularly catches and brings home adders. Her human pets find the dead snakes lying on the patio and they have promised to send me a photo next time there is a suitable corpse. Naturally they are worried that one day she may get it wrong and die from an adder bite, but so far this hasn't happened.
Maybe I should have a snake as a pet.

My ten things a cat dislikes about humans

Here are the ten most irritating things about my humans.
1. They keep wanting my attention when I am busy. Why don't they fit in better with my schedule? They wake me up when I am sleeping or napping. Or pick me up when I am hunting.
2. Celia takes up too much room in my bed. Why can't she sleep on the sofa?
3. She varies her own mealsbut she expects me to eat the same food more or less till the packet is finished.
4. She wants to hug and cuddle me. I don't mind a bit of a cuddle but she would do it all day if she could. She has no restraint. It is cuddle harassment.
5. She won't let me eat from the butter dish.
6. Humans keep vocalising on and on and on and on. They don't understand body language and they are more or less smell blind. Dumb (in the mental sense) creatures. Their hearing isn't up to much. They can't hear mice footfalls like I can.
7. They have things. Possessions. I live light - just me and my four paws, razor sharp claws and teeth, and sleek fur. They fuss about things a lot of the time.
8. They take away the mice I bring into the house and they don't even eat them. What a waste. Celia even screamed at the rat I brought in.
9. They sleep at the wrong time of day - ie night. And they wake all through the day. I like a long midday rest, an early dawn start and a dusk to midnight hunting schedule. But they lure me in before midnight and lock the cat flap.
10.They really don't understand me.... which accounts for much of my blog.
What do you hate about humans?

PS. This is a picture of Cusco - don't you like his tooth!

I am a 3 am cat. Celia is plotting against midnight hunting.

I was a bit late last night. Midnight passed in a glorious fury of hunting under a harvest moon, owls hooting, dark hedges rustling with mice driven in by the combine harvester, moths, and deep moonlight. I came back in the small hours. Leaped on my bed (where she was taking up a lot of room) and gave her an admittedly rather perfunctory Hello - a quick knead, an even quicker rub. Then I leaped down again to the food bowl. All this late night hunting gives a cat a good appetite.
She was not happy. I could tell that. She doesn't like it when Ronnie comes home late from the pub and she doesn't like it when I stay out too late. She nags both of us. She had the light on in bed and was reading a book about Neanderthals (she's a prehistory nut - see www.celiahaddon.co.uk). She never stays up this late reading. Thinking it over, after a large plate of food and an extended and vigorous wash that shook the bed, I concluded she had stayed up for me. Out of anxiety. I expect she was thinking of a squashed mess on the road - about 400 yards down the cart track. I never go on the road - except when I do. And it's true that late at night is when most cats are run over. We don't get the lights. We just get dazzled and make a run for it.
So... she was not pleased. Today I overheard her discussing strategies. She's going to withdraw the feeding bowls from 2pm onwards. (Won't work. Hunting is far more important than being a bit hungry. I was also outraged to hear that she was unfairly going to put down snacks for William when I was out.) She is going to interrupt my noon to 4pm nap and maybe lock me outside during those hours. (It might help except the adrenaline rush of hunting will over-ride exhaustion).
Then she came up with the idea of driving up and down the cart track. I don't like cars. I can recognise hers of course. But it might make me uneasy. The fear instinct might, just might, over ride the hunting instinct. I may be a predator but I take good care not to become prey (to a car).
Watch this space...

I am dreaming of a beautiful white swan.

This is a huge white feather belonging to a swan. I leaped on it. nibbled it. played with it. Pouncing on it. Dragged it around. It was simply huge. About ten times bigger than a greenfinch tail feather. (I have had a few of those). Three times the size of a black bird. As long as, but much wider than, a pheasant's tail feather. My human pet, Celia, and Lesley, the pet belonging to Opus1 and Opus2 (see past comments) brought it back from a walk for me. (Humans are social animals. I am pleased that Celia has found a friend to play with. It makes her less dependent upon me and William.)
The gigantic feather set me off into a wonderful day dream. I am slinking along the bank of a clear rushing river - gleaming black, huge paws soft and silent as silk, nose drinking in the scent of a summer day, tail twitching very slightly at the tip. The river flags are in full yellow flower. Water lilies bloom where the current is not too fast. Purple loosestrife adorns the bank. And on the river itself is a noble swan. It is the most magnificent creature gleaming white against the water. It sails along serene and magnificent. The image of beauty and calm.
With one bound I leap into the river, landing skillfully upon its back, grabbing it in a killer bite at the back of the neck. Blood gushes. It fights back but I am (in the dream) more powerful than a mere bird, however big. Like a powerful black panther, I hang on despite its struggles. Then its bright black eyes begin to dim dim, its movements become more feeble, and it slowly sinks below the water. A dying swan. With strong sweeps of my paw I paddle to the river side, crushing the loosestrife as I drag this noble prey to the bank. I am the greatest hunter in the world. I wake to the single feather.
Celia says this is a disgusting blog. As I have said before - she doesn't understand me.