I had an email from a PR agency yesterday, asking me whether I’d be interested in writing up a brand new dog food.
I responded that I was a cat person, and figured that would mark the end of the exchange.
…do you think if a friend of yours had a dog and wanted to review it for you you could still feature it?
Actually, two tales of two kitties, but there’s a point beyond which a strained play on a literary reference renders the reference pointless.
Jezebel linked to a story about a couple who were reunited, after a two year period, with their much-loved 20lb Maine Coon cat.
Bob was brought to the local humane society in Minnesota two years after his disappearance and workers found a microchip embedded under his skin with the Meide’s contact information. When they moved they didn’t update their contact information. Workers could not find their new phone number, but eventually thought to search for their names on Facebook. “We love everything about his personality. We love the size, we love big, fat cats,” said Nicole Meide, who first got Bob with her husband after they returned from their honeymoon. She said Bob’s return “brought tears of joy.”
Continue reading A tale of two kitties
Jon Stewart used this clip on the show the other day – even ‘though it’s a very short snippet, looped over and over, I still can’t get over how funny it is.
It’s a chimp! Washing a cat! (A very patient cat…)
Rufus has a tendency to bother us early in the morning. His body clock is set to the earliest time we get up during the week and does not alter to accommodate later weekend waking. He’s not content to just sit quietly on the end of the bed, or even to sit noisily in the middle of the bed. He gets right up by the pillow and gently paws my face. Well, gently at first. As minutes go by he becomes more insistent and I usually get up before he nips me on the chin.
This morning was different. Not only did Rufus let us sleep in, but he did not come running when we got up. We called him and… nothing. We checked the igloo, the carry case, the wardrobes, under the couches, the pantry… nothing. Not a mew; not a scratch. Curiouser and curiouser. By now, we were getting a bit desperate. Each of us checked the places the other had checked. Nothing.
Continue reading Rufus’ big adventure
(Oh, and one of mine, too. It’s like a safari park – for moggies!)
Thanks to Rufus, we have to hide the toilet paper. I think he’s half puppy, quarter parrot, quarter kitten. At least he’s making sure to get enough fibre in his diet (although I was still reading the TDF guide, Rufus).
Rufus critiques The Age
If I had this cat
I wouldn’t let him wander around Gertrude Street. I mean, any crazy passer by could pat him, talk to him, take photos of him and post them on a blog, plan play-dates with her own cats…
Continue reading The walk home