She’s installed a Guillotine!

Dear George,
When I last wrote to you I was singing my pets praises. I would now like to retract all I said…she appears to have gone on strike and worse still wants to want bump me off.

She has installed a window at the bottom of the door and seems to want me to dice with death to get out of the house rather than doing her duty of opening the door for me. I established the danger of this device this morning, 10 days after she installed the death trap, which was apparently my Christmas present. I wanted to go outside and she refused to get up to let me out. So you can imagine my horror when with one paw and my head outside I realise it’s snowing. I do what every self-respecting cat would do and retreat….then it strikes; tries to decapitate me, behead me! I scream like Anne Boleyn probably did in her final moments and what did she do – laugh!

Horrified and almost beheaded,

Jake xXx

 Ps – As you can tell from my photo I prefer a bag over a box!

Dear Jake,
What is the world coming to?  It is a sad sign of modern times that humans do not understand being in service. Their duties are clear - cooking and serving food to us at regular intervals: providing warm spaces on the bed throughout the night: and, of course, opening and shutting doors. In my more despairing moments I wonder if we could do a fictional TV series called Cat Abbey, where we see the humans doing proper servant duties, as they ought to be done.
Stay calm. She is not trying to kill you. She is merely trying to avoid work, the hard work that is every human pet's duty. And with typical human stupidity she actually thought you would want to go out in the snow. They just don't think like we do. 
Ignore the window altogether. Sit by the door, just as you used to, when you want to go out. Sit by the door outside when you want to come in. If this means sitting in the cold take a quick peek though the window and (if she is not in visual contact) nip back in through the new device. If she is there, sit and ostentatiously shiver, mew and look very very pitiful.
I have a cat flap - what you call a window device. But mostly I ignore it. I used it when she is out. But when she is in I go in and out of the door. It's a question of being strong minded and not letting her get away with it.
Yours sympathetically
George. 
PS. Like the bag. Nice use of available human stuff.

Cat beds - our ideas of what makes a good one.

Dear George,

I don’t want to take too much of your time but I have one question or maybe two.  You know that I’m a very spoiled kitty. However, I trained my humans surprisingly well for a young, little rescue that I’m.  For example: they let me taste the water they drink (directly from their glasses), food they eat and when they are playing cards …..I have a special chair so I can sit and watch them playing. When it comes to sleeping arrangements….I usually sleep on my mommy’s chest until she’s sound at sleep and then …..I slide down slowly between them. Well, lately they gifted me with so many cat beds (as in the photos) that I don’t know what to think. I have a bed in every single room of the house including kitchen. As I find this a bit strange, my question to you is: what could they be up to that they do not want me in the bed between them at night or are they trying to show me with respect that I’m the Alpha cat and run the show? Should I accommodate?

Yours truly but ….a bit confused

Zoe

Dear Zoe, 
Your humans are doing the right thing. We cats cannot have too many beds - their idea of beds and our idea of beds. Their idea of a cat bed is like the one in the photo. Warm cosy, with nice soft material and high sides so that it avoids drafts. But your dratted humans, I see, have put it on the floor. The ideal cat bed is sited a bit higher up. We like to look down rather than up at our pet humans.
Our idea of cat beds is, of course, rather more diverse than theirs. The following are cat beds: the double beds which we allow our humans to share; any other large beds in the house; sofas; armchairs; piles of dirty laundry; piles of clean laundry, preferably in a warm airing cupboard; any open drawer full of clothes; the surface of any chair pushed under the table; the surface of any chair anywhere; all windowsills; inside any cupboard where the doors are left open; the top of a kitchen cupboard if we feel like it; the top of the wardrobe if we feel like it; the side of an Aga or any wood burning stove; any kitchen surface that takes our fancy; in front of open fires; empty cardboard boxes of all kinds; the desk area next to the computer; the keyboard of the computer when we feel like it; the top of the stairs... You get the idea.
What your humans think they are doing is a bit more puzzling, as we have to allow for their limited cognition. My guess is that they might feel they would like more room on your double bed at night so have put a cat bed in the bedroom. This is ridiculous, of course. If you are kind enough to share your double bed with them, they must take the space they are given and be grateful for it. Do not accomodate them: it is their duty to accomodate you and your preferences.
The alternative possibility is that they really have understood that we like a lot of choice. If so they are pets in a million.
Yours thoughtfully
George
PS. Add your own suggestions....

The art of boxes - boxing up, fitting in and sleeping

Dear George,
I have a new box. It came crammed with goodies for Christmas, but she tells me it is really a shoe box. As you know I am on the large size. Well found. Well covered. Unkind people might even call me fat. I stood in this box for lengthy periods while my human seemed amused. There was nothing funny going on. I was seriously occupied in assessing, measuring,calculating, and eventually I fitted myself into it - to her astonishment.
I admit a bit of me sort of bulges over the side, but my legs and tail and head fit more beautifully. I stay in it for an hour or so in daylight hours and then get out and got for a little constitutional round the coffee table, followed by a snack and a short jaunt into the garden. When I return I settle back to sleep but on my folded blanket which is roughly three times bigger than the box. She offered to show me a photo of a human contortionist in a box but I declined. I am no contortionist. I am a cat. We do this sort of thing.
Yours 
Vincent.
PS. This is me in a larger box.

Dear Vincent,

This highlights the lack of flexibility and inability to use space in the human species. They have to have specially trained acrobats to get into small boxes. We just do it. Here is me in a box waving my paws at the camera. And one of my friend Tilly having a nap.
We just do it. Easy peasy.
However, for a large cat to fit into a shoe box is an achievement of which any feline would be proud. That elongated shape might fit a small kitten stretched out but it is not designed for the shape of a cat. As we can see from all these photos, cats like something nearer a square box if the fit is going to be tight. The photo of you in a large box shows how there is plenty of room - not like your shoebox.
There's something I enjoy about the confinement of a good box. It is nice to have ones legs and paws braced against the side of it. Nice too to have the top of the head against the cardboard. I have always been passionate about having the top of my head gently rubbed. The contact with the cardboard gives a pleasurable feel.
My friend Bob from Northern Ireland suggests diversifying. He finds plastic laundry binds are an agreeable fit (see photo).  If there is some nice smelling clean washing in them, that makes a soft base! Of course he uses traditional boxes too. 
But humans don't get the point of boxes at all. I have never seen my human use a box. She just throws them away.
Yours
George

Rules of cat ball games ...

George
I do find your advice so very comforting. What with being from Russia and used to moving in the highest circles, I am often at a loss to understand the customs in the house I now live in.
My latest problem is with ball games. My human hostess has been kind enough to provide me with these very nice snowballs (imitation, I know, but bless her, she’s trying her best.)
Now, I had always thought the rules of all ballgames are very clear: I sit on the table where the items are and knock each one carefully to the floor. My hostess then picks up the balls and replaces them, and we resume play until I tire of it. This is the right way to do it, n’est-ce pas?
Well, would you believe it, the Teenager who lives here doesn’t keep to these rules. He comes bouncing along and STEALS the balls when they are in play, hitting them all over the place and running along with them. He says he’s ‘dribbling’, which does not sound at all proper. Dribble he certainly does, and then rolls my nice white balls in the dust under the furniture. If the manservant can be bothered to retrieve them, they end up grubby.
I really don’t think this will do – dear George, what should I do?
Yours ever
Natasha


Dear Natasha,
Obviously the Teenager hasn't learnt the rules of cat ball games. Does he think he is a dog, perhaps? One of the differences between cats and dogs is that dogs play in groups. We don't. Well, the adult members of our species don't. We cats will play with humans but usually not with other cats. Your adolescent house companion is just failing to behave properly.
The solution is simple but does require you to exert your authority. Get your humans better organised. Your human hostess should continue playing with you, while the male manservant plays with the Teenager. This may have to occur in separate rooms, or, if the Teenager has some manners (and many adolescents don't) at either end of a largish room.
LIving with another cat is always tiresome.  Living with an adolescent cat is very tiresome indeed. The snowy weather is probably making the Teenager even worse than normal in his behaviour. If somehow he could be purrsuaded to get out a bit more and slaughter some wildlife, you could get on with playing your game with the hostess.
Yours with sympathy,
George 
PS. Harvey the House Rabbit has had issues with Google who claimed he was too young (at the age of 10) to write a blog. He is back at http://harvey-diaryofaninspirationalbunny.blogspot.co.uk/

Feline artist's model - I resent being dressed up

Dear George
What’s wrong with humans? Why are they so different than us? The other day my female human, who, by the way,  pretends to be an artist and keeps painting strange portraits of cats, asked me to be her muse for a portrait! Ugh! Well, not only that I resent staying still for long periods of time (because of her inabilities as an artist) but, I resent very much to be dressed up. Look at my photo with that horrible collar and you’ll understand! She had the guts to convince me that horrible thing it’s a “Victorian style collar”! Ha! As soon as I critiqued her knowledge and turned my back to her no-sense attempt of art she got really upset. I even thought for a moment that I won’t get any dinner.  Later that night  when she started being nice to me and rubbed my belly talking sweet talk I got really worried; I knew she’s up to something! Man, you can’t trust these humans!
Then I’ve seen what she was up to – take a look at my photo behind the bars!
George, is this a proof of her love or craziness?
Please help me understanding my human!

CAT Victoria

Dear CAT Victoria,
The key to understanding any human is to realize that their species is a primitive life form.  They don't think like we do. They can't think like we do. Their brains are overloaded with unnecessary ideas, which in their arrogance they call "higher order thoughts." Actually, these are ridiculous thought forms that get in the way of a natural and adaptive life.
So, instead of getting on with her duties as a housekeeper to you, Victoria, your human is time-wasting with ideas about art. Regular delivery of cat food and belly rubbing (when she finally got round to it) are the activities that she should be concentrating on. But her absurd human brain has got in the way.
Art, though it may be a distraction from what matters in the cat-human relationship, is one thing. Dressing up cats is another. Yes, of course, it is crazy.
I have a theory that humans are so devastatingly envious of our natural coat of fur, that they sometimes cannot help themselves. They start dressing us up, in order to pretend to themselves that we look better in clothes.
We don't. Next time you see that damn collar coming anywhere near you, Victoria, hide under the bed. Or put your back up and strike out with all four claws. This human behaviour requires punishment.
Yours sympathetically
George