What’s Been Up at Cats Working

November 19, 2021

By Karen

Virginia FINALLY cooled off and now the leaves are falling like mad. The acorns are crazy, too, so it’s like walking on marbles to go anywhere in the yard.

My house sprung a new quirk in the form of a weird tapping in the living room wall behind the TV. It had some intelligence because it would stop if I walked near it or went out on the deck or into the crawlspace to investigate. But I never saw anything.

The pest control guy I hired also heard it but couldn’t find the source, so he left some chemicals. I haven’t heard it for two days since then, so whatever it was may have moved on or died.

Speaking of the deck, one of my house’s good qualities is how high it is. This is the view from the deck. It feels like living in a treehouse…

Last night I was too tired to cook, so I popped this Lean Cuisine into the microwave…

The instructions were a little weird — 9 minutes at 50% power. I watched TV in the living room while waiting for the microwave to ding, but it just kept running and running and running.

Eventually, I realized something was wrong and this is what I found. These meals never look like what’s on the box, but this was ridiculous…

The timer showed 66 minutes left at 50% power. I must have accidentally punched in 90 instead of 9, so I’m glad it was only at half-power or I might have burned the house down.

But I know you’re dying to for cat news, so enough about me. The other morning, Tony toyed with being a tabby…

“Do these stripes make me look fat?”

He’s also been enjoying some fresh brown paper from Chewy.com delivery. He thinks it’s an invisibility cloak…

“You can’t see me, right?”

Lately, Max has been spending nights on my bed, but his favorite spot is between my legs, which means I can’t move. So, I relocated from the living room a cat bed they’ve all ignored for ages. Max actually slept in it the first night and made it the hottest new ticket in town. The next morning, Roc relinquished his claim on his own favorite bed to Tony so he could grab Max’s spot…

The following morning right after breakfast, guess where I found Tony staked out?…

Tony wouldn’t budge even after Roc showed up. Roc often bullies Max, but he knows better than to mess with the Tonester…

Almost forgot. Back in October for my birthday, my sister gave me this personalized mat. You’ll notice the kitties on it are furatomically correct…

Innocent Housecats Under Attack

February 1, 2013

By Max

A new survey claims domestic cats are homicidal maniacs who kill BILLIONS of mice and birds.

Here’s a news flash: Karen has killed more mice than me and Adele COMBINED. (I can’t speak for Cole. He’s mum about his feral kitten days.)

In this study, LiveScience researchers surmised there are about 84 million cats owned in the U.S. They pulled numbers out of their ass and claim we each kill 4-18 birds per year and 8-21 small mammals annually.

They failed to acknowledge that, of those 84 million housecats, MANY are indoor-only.

And who’s weeping over fewer mice and voles? There’s a reason they’re called “vermin.”

OK, chipmunk deaths are regrettable because they’re cute, and some are even great singers.

But this anti-cat wack job in New Zealand named Gareth Morgan has a blog called Cats to Go and says he’d pay the SPCA $5 for every cat it kills.

Who says birds are more important than cats? Has Gareth never heard of avian flu? Did BIRDS save Europe from the Black Plague?

Gareth should visit India. There aren’t many cats there, and rats devour the grain so people starve.

And what about our contribution to technology? The Internet full of BIRD videos is unthinkable.

I Can Has Cheezburger with lolBIRDS? Are you kidding?

Here’s just one example of Gareth’s cat-hate:

Before you say it, even well-fed cats kill. The fact is that cats kill on instinct, not because they need to eat, it is one of their most pleasurable activities. In one study, six cats were presented with a live small rat while eating their preferred food. All six cats stopped eating the food, killed the rat, and then resumed eating the food.

It was a RAT! Those cats did humans a favor, even though they had to finish their meal with rat hair in their teeth.

Yet this Gareth clown makes it sound like a bad thing.

Cats Working appeals to every cat-lover with a social media presence to denounce Gareth Morgan.

Instead of calling for our deaths, he should adopt some cats, keep them indoors, and learn what delightful companions we are — as opposed to dogs who just want to cover every ‘hood with poop.

Humane neutering programs will take time to eliminate feral cats, but people could speed things up a lot by offering more kitties good homes — indoors.

More killing is NEVER the answer.

A Kitten’s First Half-Birthday

October 10, 2011

By Max

I was exactly 6 months old on Karen’s birthday yesterday. I’ve only been about 2 months with Cats Working, but I’ve been learning and doing so much, it feels like a year in kitten time.

For example, I’m still leash training. Here I am on a typical day’s practice…

I do this mainly for the treats

Sometimes I forget and run ahead, and the leash jerks me back. To save face, I play this little game where I pretend Karen’s strangled me.

Help!! It’s… getting… darker… !!!!

I’ve also learned it’s one short hop from the kitchen table to the counter, but one great leap for kittenkind. It’s a great way to see for myself what’s cooking.

I know she hides the Fancy Feast around here somewhere

AND I’ve joined the ranks of all the intrepid Wormald kitties who have dared to attempt “third beam” and lived to tell about it. (Adele did it in her youth, but Cole refuses to even consider it.)

The third beam runs across the far end of the living room, beyond the balcony, so you can’t just walk onto it, like the first 2 beams. The diagonal leap out isn’t too bad if you don’t look down. It’s the coming back. It requires pinpoint precision and timing to sail between the bannisters and not end up a splat on the living room carpet.

Here’s when Karen dropped the camera and went scurrying for a ladder

I’m also establishing a fitness routine with Karen’s stationary bike and stretchy things. It helps me tone my muscles for even BIGGER leaps!

When I can reach the pedals, watch out, Tour de France!

We have this live tree I’ve loved digging in and knocking over from Day One. It was 6 feet tall, but Karen cut it down to my size, hoping it would lose its appeal. No dice. The dirt’s covered with tin foil now, but its “safe place, out of reach,” lasted about a day. Even Karen’s basket of talking Chihuahuas couldn’t stop me.

Guard Chihuahuas – no match for a kitten on a mission

Adele showed me another angle to the tree, but I’m not quite ready for that yet. Adele’s such a talented leaper, she should run away with a circus. I mean it. Cole and I would love it if she ran away with a circus.

Adele’s radioactive vision will restore the tree to 6 feet in no time

Occasionally, I still drop in on Karen’s work. I can obliterate much more of her computer screen than before.

Mouse pointer – still better than no mouse at all

And I notice I fill my office bed a little more…

Nothing like a good catnap while Karen earns the kitty litter money

Adele regifted me her furry white bed because she never liked it for some reason…

Adele's forgotten her shelter days, when a kitten would KILL for a bed like this

It’s so far, so good with my caterpillar. No signs he’s turning into a butterfly yet.

My Cattey is always here for me

My latest favorite toy is a little yellow thing. It’s supposed to be a chew toy — for cats. I know. What were they thinking? But I love it and play with it for HOURS (unless it skitters under Sam the fridge). I think it’s a sign of growing maturity that I can appreciate the subtle pleasures of such a boring little object.

Me and Chewy. He's dumb-looking, isn't he?

Cole and I are still working on our relationship. He still thinks he’s king of the blue kitty perch, but sometimes he’ll role-play scenes from “Titanic” with me…

Cole’s Rose, floating on her door while Jack Dawson loses his grip… “I’ll always, glug, love you, glug, glug…”

Thanks to dozens of cans of Fancy Feast®, Karen thinks I weigh about 6 pounds now. I have introduced a new tradition I call “lunch.” Whenever Karen goes into the kitchen at midday, I’m right there, looking for a little sump’in- sump’in my bowl — and I usually get it. I mean, could YOU resist this face?

Ma'am, may I please have some more?


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