Cat shows.... yawn!

 

Cat shows... yawn. Boring, boring, boring. 

With their usual ability to discover the obvious, human scientists have confirmed this, after hours spent timing our movements.

Most of the time we show cats just sleep. We might look at those who are staring at us some of the time. Only when it gets too busy and crowded do some of us hide in the litter tray.

Why don't we react with more stress? After all, it's well known to most humans (or should be) that staring freaks us out.* We stare to intimidate other cats and we feel stressed when they stare at us. We don't like being stared at.

The truth is that we show cats are just used to this. Most of the time we have a good life in a house with humans that adore us. But about once a month, we are put in a carrier and have to spend a day sitting in a small cage in a cat show.

Oh well, it could be worse...

*Learn about our feelings by reading  Being Your Cat. Get it here.

 

The cat-human sleeping partnership.

 

Do we help humans sleep? This question has now been investigated by scientists who declare that we don't. Having a cat on the bed is more likely to give a human jerking legs.

But, of course, it is the wrong question....

The correct way to look at the feline-human sleep partnership is to ask whether humans help us sleep. And the answer is clear - yes, they do. Here are the reasons why:

• A human body acts like a large hot water bottle, giving off useful warmth to the feline body.
• When their limbs are arranged in the correct position, they can keep drafts away from the sleeping feline.
• They are easily trained to move, while sleeping, so that we have more space, when we need to stretch out.

What can a cat do for a better night's sleep? Here are some suggestions.

• If there are two humans in the bed, sleep between them to minimize drafts or unwanted human activity. Cats are a natural contraceptive.
• The single human should be encouraged to curl round the sleeping feline body, reducing drafts that way.
• Wake up snoring humans at regular intervals. there is usually a period of time before heavy snoring reoccurs.
  

Why humans blame us cats.

Do not trust humans completely. Because they are a species that will turn on cats, when they are frightened.

Fear makes them panic. Panic makes them non-rational. We cats in the UK were lucky to avoid mass slaughter during the start of the Covid epidemic. The authorities considered killing all cats. 

Mad idea? Yes, but humans will always blame other species. This year, the Chinese authorities have killed 2000 pet hamsters, blaming them for spreading the epidemic.

Luckily for Chinese cats, it was the hamsters got the blame. But humans often blame cats. During the Great Plague of 1666 in London, the Lord Mayor ordered all cats and dogs to be killed. A total of 100,000 cats and 40,000 dogs were slaughtered, according to Daniel Defoe.

Just the wrong thing to do. Because the plague was being spread by fleas that lived on rats. Fewer cats meant more rats 

But that is the human response. Unthinking. Lacking rational thought. Always ready to blame somebody else.

I am an unacknowledged genius

 

She's done it again. I am an acknowledged author of only one book, A Cat's Guide to Humans, but I have co-authored many more cat books with my human, Celia.

I co-author because my paws get tired when I am typing all day on the keyboard. And, if I sit down on it, as I often do for a rest, the type somehow goes all wrong.

So co-authoring with a human has its obvious benefits. But the major drawback is the complete lack of acknowledgement. And she'd done it again. Left my name off the book, Being Your Cat.

The insights are mine. The ideas are mine. She couldn't have written it without me. 

Yet she thinks it's acceptable to leave out my name altogether. I am not on the cover. I am not on the dedication. I am not in the Endnotes. I am not even in the thanks-acknowedgements at the end of the book.

It is not good enough.

I am planning revenge. Shall I pee on one of the books? Or give her a sharp nip? Or just ignore her for a few days....

It it itches I grooms it.

Gracie groomed because she had fleas

If I itch, I scratch. Or I groom my hair fiercely. But I also scratch or groom when I am in pain. And sometimes I will groom myself compulsively when I feel anxious or stressed.

Why do I start having bare patches?

Well fleas are the obvious answer. And if it's not fleas, it might be other parasites. If my hair is falling out, rather than being groomed out, then it might be ringworm or the demodex mite.

People think I don't have fleas when I do - because I have groomed them away. Every single one of them. I have groomed even when they are gone, because the bite they leave  behind still itches. 

Miss Foo - a painful area

Humans don't find any fleas, so they think there are none. If they bothered to groom me over a piece of white paper, and then poured a little bit of water on to the dirt there they would see it goes sort of brown - flea poo has blood in it.

Zennor had a food allergy

 

I groom when it is painful because that is all I can do. I lick and hope I can lick it better. So I groom arthritic areas which are painful. I groom my tummy if I have cysititis. 

I also groom if I have food allergies. Most owners don't know this but I need a proper veterinary allergy diet.

And finally, I groom - over and over again - if I am really anxious. 

You'll need a good vet to rule out all these problems and diagnose the correct one. 

So take me to a dermatology vet please. 

•  Take a look at www.catexpert.co.uk for more about overgrooming.
  

A Valentine's Day for cat lovers?

I wish there was a Valentine's day for cat-human partners.

Neither she nor I got a Valentine card last week, not even an anonymous one. But we have each other.

Who wants a same-species partner, anyway? I certainly don't. I don't get on with strange cats and I would  be devastated (and very angry) if a new cat came into the household. I am a one-woman cat.

She doesn't want one either. She has had her share and now she prefers the serenity of sleeping in the double bed - without a man.

She is not alone, of course. Neither of us are alone. We suit each other (even though I find her tiresome, very tiresome, at times). She loves me and sometimes I love her back.

How?

I give her the slow blink that tells her I am feeling love. Or IO rub against her. Or, in my case, I give her the privilege of petting me while I sleep on her lap.

I am better for her than any other human. I don't answer back, I listen when she is boring on about something, I don't tell her what to do or how to dress, and I don't care that she is older than me.

What human would want another human, when they can get a cat?

Eight weeks define my life

 

The most important period of my life was the first eight weeks of my kittenhood. The Jesuits, if they had been interested in cats not humans, would have known this. They said "Give me a child till he is seven years old and I will show you the man."

So give a kitten like me to loving humans until it is eight weeks old, and then you see see the adult cat.

I was lucky. I was given human love in my first eight weeks. So I grew up relaxed and happy around humans. Those weeks defined my future.

If I had been a feral kitten, born into the wild, I would have grown up to be feral. Without any gentle human handling, I would have feared humans probably for the rest of my life. I would have been miserable in a human home. 

Feral kittens can be rehabilitated, if they are rescued early enough, but it takes effort. There are some rehab ideas here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUcNQYso5XM

Remember, you stupid humans, we need gentle handling from the second week of our lives. You can also read it here.

 

 

 

 

 

Moonlight is my light

Moonlight is my favourite light, when I am in the country. The owls come out to glide silently across the sky or perch in the trees hooting. Deer step gracefully out of the woods to eat in the fields. Small rodents come out of hiding.

And I am at home in this twilight world. I can see clearly where humans are blinded by darkness. I can hear the smallest rustle of a vole in the grass.

Humans may notice a pair of eyes reflecting the moonlight but they cannot fully recognise my outline. This is my world, not theirs.

Even in the town, this kind of light makes me happy. Street lighting has more shadows than moonlight but still creates a kind of twilight. Only the glare of passing traffic headlights ruins the night.

Inside human homes there are bright light bulbs and noise TVs. Here in the street is my world.

 

Recognise my pain

 

Signs of pain - narrowed eyes, tight face, stary ungroomed coat, ears lowered, tense body posture rather than relaxed posture. Difficult to see because of long hair. Attention inwards not outwards. Fewer movements of any kind. His head is lowish.

I'm a cat so I hide my pain. That's what we are programmed to do, to prevent larger predators seeing us as easy prey. We don't wimper or howl. We don't complain.

The only exception is when we might shriek in the middle of an violent attack or accident. 

We suffer silently, uncomplaining and stoic, during illness or pain. So our humans don't recognise that we are suffering until it is really, really bad.

Probably the most obvious sign is lack of appetite. The litter tray may reveal bowel or urine differences. Our humans should take photos for the vet.

Your human can and should do something NOW. Get the free app - https://www.felinegrimacescale.com/phone-app  

It will help them recognise our suffering. 

Builders in my territory....hiss

Don't you hate them.... strange men carrying a hold-all full of tools. Smelling of wood, plaster, metal, and sometimes of the yappy dog that is in their van.

They invade our home, bringing in their horrible scent to ruin the reassuring family scent. They are noisy -  drilling, thumping, banging, and hammering. And, if we're unlucky, they bring a radio with loud rock music.

In the evening when they have gone and we inspect our home territory, we find there is CHANGE.

I hate change. I want my safe family territory to stay the same, just as I want my daily routine to be unaltered.

Builders ruin that. So I hiss at them. I might even need to pee on their toolbox. 

Builders! You have been warned.

Stop feline cultural appropriation!

The name is George. George Online Cat. 

Only it isn't.

This name is cultural appropriation at its most disgusting.

George is NOT my name, but the name given to me by humans, who purrsist in calling us cats by names they, not we, invent. They don't seem to realise how bad mannered it is.

"George" is just a word to me. People are so stupid that when I react to the word, they think it means I "know my name."

Of  course I don't. It's not my name. My identity is bound up with my personal smell, my signature scent. It doesn't need a "blah blah" human utterance.

I react to the name because it predicts stuff like food, strokes, or (occasionally) punishment. 

Yet humans are too thick to react to my real scent identity which I spread on them when I rub against them. They only "recognise" my identity scent when I pee or spray - and then they react very badly indeed. They don't understand that this is my signature identity.

Stop and think, human. You are guilty of feline cultural appropriation when you think you have named me!

Upstaging your human on Zoom

Zoom is a photo opportunity for us cats. We don't have to rely on our humans to video us and put us on the net. We just pop into view in our own time.

Top of the screen appearances are the best way to upstage your human (see above). Just cover his face with your own, making it impossible for other humans to see him properly.  

Less useful but easier to arrange is the simple stroll across the screen, ending in the always amusing butt photo. The display of a gorgeously furry backside always gets human attention.

Or simply closely stare at the camera taking up the foreground leaving your human in the background.

The most widely enjoyed Zoom cat appearances was, alas, not the result of a real cat but merely a Zoom filter. An amazing court case occurred in the USA in front of judge Roy Ferguson, where somehow one of the lawyers' profile was taken over by a feline face mocking his utterances. Despite the warning on the Zoom screen, this went viral and even has its own wikipedia entry - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoom_Cat_Lawyer

 So, fellow feline artists, start refining your Zoom technique.