Category: dogs and cats

Who needs the shrink around here?

The cat shrink is coming this afternoon to see if our new housemate, Ophelia, is beyond help. Meanwhile, my mom Cathy got really worried last night. Ophelia dived under the bed and refused to come out all night. Usually she sleeps right next to Cathy’s pillow.

So early this morning Mom got up and poked the box springs cover where Ophelia (literally) hangs out. She installed Ophelia in the laundry room with food, water and a litter box. She cleverly set up a barrier so Ophelia can’t get behind the washing machine and refuse to come out, the way Creampuff does.

I peeked in while Mom was scooping the litter box. Ophelia seemed to be happy. Maybe she’s a seeker of solitude. Maybe she’s part mushroom and she likes small, dark spaces. Hmm…from a certain angle, she does kind of resemble a mushroom. cat in laundry room

Then Mom turned to me with that gleam in her eye. “You know, Gracie, if these behaviorists seem to know what they’re doing, I can hire them to work on your jumping and pulling issues.”

Uh oh. Training. Tugging my leash. Squirt guns. Anyway, what’s wrong with a few jumps now and then? I only jump on people we know or people who seem, well, suspicious. Mom should be thanking me.

Real Men Own…Cats?!

My mom just read me part of this article from the New York Times. Apparently more straight guys are coming out of the closet, disclosing their deep affection for the feline species.

“The article didn’t come right out and say that women are attracted to men who own cats,” Cathy told me. “But a guy who likes cats is very sure of himself and confident about his masculinity.”boy and cat

Hah. A guy who owns dogs can take his dog to the park. He’ll meet a dozen women who will “ooh” and “ah” over the dog. And a woman who owns a dog will get tons of attention — the good kind — not to mention respect from guys who admire a strong, secure female.

I’m not the least bit insecure about my status.

Mom calls the shrink…

Not for her. She’s far too cheap.

But Cathy is worried about our new housemate, Ophelia. After making progress, Ophelia has regressed. She staked a claim on a corner of Cathy’s bed and she won’t leave. She sits on a cushion, right next to Cathy’s pillow, and she won’t budge. When she freaks out, she dives under the bed. Not good.

So Mom asked the vet for a referral to a cat behaviorist. When Cathy called for her appointment, they said Ophelia might be suffering from shelter shock. Sort of like post-traumatic stress disorder for cats.

We’ve got a PhD-qualified, trained shrink coming next week. He comes to our home and spends a couple of hours analyzing Ophelia. Mom was aghast at the cost till she realized that’s what she charges for a diagostic website makeover session. And she doesn’t even go to clients’ homes.

Hey Mom, I’ve got a better idea. Let’s find Ophelia a home with a nice little old lady, where Ophelia can be the only cat. She can sit on the old lady’s lap and watch the old lady drink tea.

Except, my mom would say, they don’t make old ladies like they used to. And she adores Ophelia. They’ve bonded.

Why can’t a cat be more like a dog?

Cathy has been getting very frustrated with our new housemate, Ophelia. Ophelia is beautiful and gentle. She has a wonderful loud purr. But she’s terrified of Creampuff.

Yeah, you read that right. You’re probably wondering how anyone can be intimidated by that ditzy calico. But Ophelia hisses and growls – loud! – when she encounters Creampuff. And Creampuff tries to chase Ophelia.

As a result of all the trauma, Ophelia spends a lot of time under Cathy’s bed. She doesn’t even like to venture out to eat.

No dog would ever be so dumb. We won’t let a silly little cat keep us from the most important moments in our life: dinner. We’d never hide.

Ophelia doesn’t know how lucky she is. Cathy is looking up names of cat therapists. She thinks Ophelia needs a shrink.

I’m not saying a word. (Did I tell you dogs are smart?) But I think a certain dog owner needs to have her head examined. Why on earth did she adopt a furry problem child?

Copywriting Tips My Mom Learned From Her Cats

My mom Cathy wrote a funny article about how the cats taught her to be a better copywriter. You can read the article here.

My favorite:

#1: Walk on the edge and take some risks.

These lazy good-for-nothings take no risks. Ophelia’s too fat to jump up on the counter to eat dinner, let alone walk on the edge. Of course my mom wrote this article when she still had Tiger, who was jumping around almost till the day she died.

#3: Expect to be appreciated.

Mom got this one wrong. “Dogs beg for attention,” she wrote. “Cats take it for granted.”

Ex-cuuuse me! Do I beg for anything that doesn’t promise food? I get all the attention I need without asking. And then some.

And #10: Who cares if someone hates you? There’s always another food dish around the corner.

All I can say is, don’t count on it. And the cats can give you all the copywriting tips. I’m the one who keeps you going when your schedule gets crazy and you need a little love…or a LOT of love.

And now I shall return to my nap. We had a beautiful day at the dog park, didn’t we? Who forced you out the door to enjoy this beautiful weather?

Next article, Mom: 10 tips on enjoying life I learned from my Canine Urban Princess – the world’s first CUPPIE.

The Role of Food in Our Household

For the last few years, we’ve been pretty calm about food in our household. Mom is an omnivore. I’m famous for eating unmentionable garbage and stealing my mom’s food. The cats chewed on their crunchies.

Then everything changed. Cathy adopted Ophelia, who’s a food fuss. Ophelia insisted on eating canned food, which was supposed to be an occasional treat. My mom doesn’t want to mess with cans. After all, I eat crunchies. Why shouldn’t the cats? Who’s the superior species here?

So my mom finally got firm. At night she put down two plates of yummy Avoderm crunchies, one for each cat. Ophelia ran to her dish. Alas, she seemed to say, “no crunches.”

She gave Mom her best pathetic stare. Mom was unmoved. She had just rinsed out 3 cans for recycling. Enough!

So she ran to the other dish and sniffed. No crunchies.

Ophelia ran back and forth a couple of times before accepting the inevitable. She stalked away, fat plumy tail held high.

My mom was worried. “What if she won’t eat? What if she gets hepatic lipidosis? A big vet bill…”

Later that night we awoke to the sound of crunching. Sure enough, there was Ophelia, caught in the act. Ophelia looked at my mom and dashed away, muttering, “I was not eating. Don’t get any ideas.”

Could a cat be this smart? my mom wondered. She asked a couple of her human friends, by phone.

“Cats can be very manipulative,” said Mom’s friend Pat. “Don’t give in.”

Mom’s pretty stubborn herself. After all, I did serious crate time my first few months, till I convinced everyone I could be trusted to stay on the bed all night. I know the drill.

Anyway, I’ve had slim pickings around here myself. Mom downloaded a diet from the Internet and there’s not much for me to steal. No self-respecting dog would eat a cucumber and tomato salad. Whole grain bread? Not for me.

And that ditzy Creampuff keeps eating my food. I’d like to have a word with that adoption agency…if I knew how to use a phone.

Cat imitates art

Well, you’ve heard the saying, “Life imitates art.” Here’s an example.

My mom took this photo of Creampuff, our ditzy calico housemate, sound asleep on her favorite chair. Her body language says, “Don’t bother me while I’m sleeping.”cat as art

From this angle, Creampuff looks like a piece of abstract art. My mom was intrigued by the idea.

As far as I’m concerned, Creampuff’s a piece of work. No argument there.

New housemate is taking over

Here’s what happens on a Sunday evening. We’re all tired. Mom’s been working and she moved her laptop to the living room so we could all be together.

Ophelia, our new housemate, got tired of hanging out in the laundry room. So she moved to the closet. And today shedog and cat together scrambled up on the couch. A classic takeover.

And what am I doing? My mom took me on a long walk today. It was very warm. As you can see, I’m exhausted.

Cathy was so thrilled. Our family is coming together again. Ophelia is fitting in.

Cathy’s got a pile of books to read. She’s always looking for books to recommend to her readers, she says. But I know she’s got a murder mystery tucked away for times when she goes brain dead. Which, in my opinion, happens whenever she spends time with the cats. She isn’t crazy about Ophelia’s name but we can’t think of anything else.

cat sleepingAnd where’s our other little family member? Yep…sound asleep on her chair. I told you we were all exhausted. That’s how Ophelia gets away with it.

Overweight cat contest? Ophelia’s a loser.

Good grief. No sooner did we add a 17-lb. kitty to our household than we heard about a real heavyweight: a 44-lb. cat in New Jersey.

That’s much more than what I weigh. And I am a dog.fat cat

“We’re ignoring that story,” my mom said. “Ophelia is still on a diet. If she’ll ever leave her laundry room hideout, we’ll start her kitty aerobics program.”

No wonder Ophelia wants to hide. My mom’s a terror when she gets fixated on an idea.

Then again, she said, the New Jersey cat, “Princess Chunk,” got all kinds of publicity. Chunk sat in Diane Sawyer’s lap, totally calm. (Diane wore a white skirt that won’t show Chunk’s white hair. Chris Cuomo, wearing a dark suit, edged away).

“Imagine what all this publicity could do for my copywriting business,” Cathy said.

Not much.

Get real, mom. Your cats will always be liabilities. I’m the asset around here.

Adopting our new housemate

Good grief. We can’t have any peace around here.

We just said sad good-bys to Tiger. Well, my mom Cathy was sad. I’m philosophical. Cats come. Cats go.

We went to the Seattle Animal Shelter, just to look. Cathy’s neighbors, Diana and Rachel, offered to give us a ride. Yep…you read that right. Us. I went along too. Cathy wanted to show the Shelter folks what a good pet owner she is.gracie in shelter

Naturally I stole the show. Everyone kept saying, “What a beautiful dog.”

One of the staff volunteers gave me a toy.

Diana, who drove us down, is holding my leash firmly. I’m waiting for Cathy to finish the paperwork. Isn’t this dumb? When she adopted me, my foster mom just drove me down. She could tell Cathy would be a great owner. This Shelter is more complicated.

adaoption sceneAnd here’s Cathy with the Adoption Volunteer who helped her choose Ophelia. And me. Do I look as bored as I feel?

And here’s the adoptee herself. Can you tell she’s overflowing her carrier? Mom is making all kinds of noise about kitty aerobics.cat in carrier

No problem. I get my aerobics in the park, thank you very much.

But there’s at least one silver lining. With a 17-pound cat, nobody’s looking at my waistline. Welcome, Ophelia!