cat

It's been said that people that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life.

My Cats Conducted A Performance Review For My 2 Year Old Son And It Was Brutally Honest. Top Story - March 2021.
Please take a seat. Thank you for joining us today. It’s been 2 years since you joined us. We decided to forego the performance review in your first year as everyone needed to adjust to your arrival. We have to say that you have made quite the impact here. You have displayed some strengths but also some areas for improvement but, if we’re being honest, your performance has gone downhill since you arrived. In your first year, we appreciated the fact that you kept to your own space as you navigated your new surroundings. But that is no longer the case.
By Alice Vuong6 years ago in Petlife
I Was Heartbroken Witnessing How Unfair I Was Towards My Kitten
Back in October — curiously, it feels like it was a year ago — I met a little living miracle. She was the one who adopted me if I want to be fair!
By Myriam Ben Salem6 years ago in Petlife
How My Cats "Adjusted" to the Pandemic
My husband and I have two cats, Memphis and Tully. We adopted Tully together a few years ago. Memphis has been with me since he was a kitten, before I even met my husband. While he likes my husband, and often goes to him for affection and food, it is me that he is most attached to.
By Crysta Coburn6 years ago in Petlife
Missing Cat
His name is James… Was James, God rest his soul. He was seriously the best cat I’ve ever had. From the day I got him and brought him home he didn’t act like other cats and I know because I’ve had other cats before. Quite a few, as a matter of fact, but they’ve all died and gone to be with St. Peter. So I just have James now, and boy is he strange. James pretty much acts like a dog. He walks around with his tongue hanging out and practically barks at the neighbors. He flat-out refuses to use his litter box. Like sometimes I’ll catch him ‘going’ on my clothes or hiding his mess under the rug, but the thing is he just prefers to do his business outside. I know you won’t believe this, but he likes me to leash him and walk him around the neighborhood. I would have turned him into an outside cat, but you know how it is in the city—cats get hit by cars all the time and they don’t have nine lives.
By Ben golden6 years ago in Petlife
Silvered Eyes
Each morning when I left for my day shift at the drug store, a white cat waited outside the apartment complex. I lived in a suburb with clusters of buildings, so I didn’t pay the cat much attention early on: its fur wasn’t dirty or matted, it didn’t meow to try and get my attention, and it looked fairly well-fed if its puff of a belly was any indication. The only thing that made me note it from the other strays I had seen was that it sat in one place and stared long after I had passed with my bike. Sometimes its eyes even shifted from yellow to silver when I looked back.
By Jillian Spiridon6 years ago in Petlife
Kitty the mushroom Hunter
Sometimes the world just needs to slow down. I’m no technophobe. I love the immediacy of texting, and Instagram as much as the next person, but there is no denying the way a quiet, disconnected, walk in the forest soothes the soul. Especially if there’s a chance money can be made on that walk.
By Sasha White6 years ago in Petlife
Missing Cat
His name is James… Was James, God rest his soul. He was seriously the best cat I’ve ever had. From the day I got him and brought him home he didn’t act like other cats and I know because I’ve had other cats before. Quite a few, as a matter of fact, but they’ve all died and gone to be with St. Peter. So I just have James now, and boy is he strange. James pretty much acts like a dog. He walks around with his tongue hanging out and practically barks at the neighbors. He flat-out refuses to use his litter box. Like sometimes I’ll catch him ‘going’ on my clothes or hiding his mess under the rug, but the thing is he just prefers to do his business outside. I know you won’t believe this, but he likes me to leash him and walk him around the neighborhood. I would have turned him into an outside cat, but you know how it is in the city—cats get hit by cars all the time and they don’t have nine lives.
By Ben golden6 years ago in Petlife
A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to my $20,000 Inheritance
I was stunned by my aunt's attorney's words: "Ms. Davis shall receive the sum of twenty thousand…" "Are you serious?!" "Let me finish, please." The attorney adjusted his glasses and continued reading. "Twenty thousand dollars, contingent upon taking superb care of my cat Sweetie Pie."
By Jennifer Miller6 years ago in Petlife
The eye of Obi
As I collected myself from the events that occurred, I began clearing the heavy coat of dander from the doorway with a small dust broom. My goal - to close the door without resistance. I cleaned a majority of the fowl concoction before forcing the door closed. The gust of wind from the door closing kicked up the remaining fine coat of skin cells, some of which stuck to the remanence of Obis snot pasta like a fine coat parmesan cheese from a certain fancy Italian restaurant that we're all accustomed to. As I collect a putty knife from my tool box to remove the substance from my kitchen floor, my thoughts begin to race. Where is he, what is going on, why me. I begin using the putty knife to unstick the now dried monstrosity. I would describe it as two week old Spaghetti; and someone's sick fucking chin batter. Once I've disposed of it I begin to plot my next move. I know I need to find the cat. I don't know where Mikleo is or if he's watching me. I start packing away everything that I could from the package into my bag. Knowing that time is of the essence to find Obi, I make my way outside scanning the area for any questionable vehicles. I see the snow trail ends on the curb where Mikleos car was parked. I know if I am going to find Obi I need to proceed on foot. I make my way back toward the location I found the sketchy money brick. I feel vulnerable as I walk, knowing I have national security breathing down my neck as well as an uncanny amount of cash. I care more about my missing friend than I do the brick in my bag. I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. Stressed I go to the corner pub for a quick drink. I sat at the stool waiting for service. I rifled through my bag for my wallet, annoyed I knew I left it back at home. As the bartender addressed me, I asked for a long island. Luckily she didn't card me. Soon I had the frosty drink in my possession. I made quick work of it, almost forgetting about my missing wallet. I made the decision to leave the mystery cash brick- surely twenty thousand dollars would more than cover it. I made sure that nobody was looking as I removed questionable stack, I plopped it down on the counter and made my way out the the dank watering hole. I decided that I would make my way back to the location that I found the box in hopes Obi would be there. Before I could do that I knew I needed to go back and retrieve my wallet. I felt like every step of the way back home that I was being followed. I kept looking over my shoulder and crossing the street anytime I saw someone walking toward me. Once I arrived back home I noticed my door slightly ajar. I carefully make my way up the porch unsure of what I may find. As I get closer I notice a familiar goo dripping from the doorknob. I thought for a split second that Mikleo's crustache (crusty mustache) snow had liquified. I reach my finger out to nudge the door avoiding the dripping liquid. As the door opens the questionable substance leaves a trail. I step in ready for whatever might be waiting. I begin clearing the house room by room carefully. I saved my kitchen for last, as that seemed to be the primary focal point of my uninvited Homeland security guest. The first thing I notice is that my favorite hot sauce had been knocked over on its side. I walk up to the counter to pick it up. As I do I notice a familiar grey hair stuck to the top. Before I can process it, I hear footsteps on my porch again. Fearing the worst I turn my attention to the front door. I make my way to it flinging the door open to be greeted by Kel the elderly mail lady whos 5 hours late. Caught off guard I said "hey Kel" as she handed me today’s junk mail (by junk mail I mean bills I have been ignoring) I engage her in conversation hoping not to keep her too long as I know she has only been to a few houses on her route. It's not abnormal to see Kel still delivering parcels at eleven PM. I ask her if she has seen anything strange today. She replies "No I've been on this same block for four hours”. I believed her, as I turn to go in I tuck my student loan bill into my back pocket, Intending to deliver it to the trashcan as soon as I get inside. I sigh as I close the door. I walk back into my kitchen and toss the bill in the trash. No sooner that the envelope lands the trash can falls over. I bend over to pick it. It feels unusually heavy. I peer inside confused knowing that my ten thousand dollar student loan was heavy but not heavy enough to tip a trash can. As soon as I look in I see a familiar face! Obi! he lunges at me nearly knocking me over in the process. As I collect myself he sits in front of me and flicks his tail once. Happy to see him I scoop him up wondering why he could have possibly been in there. I get a gentle but rough lick on the nose before I realize that Obi may need to go to the bathroom. I pick up a small plastic tote and fill it with the only thing available- my leopard gecko Corbins extra sand. As soon as I do, Obi goes right in. Deciding to leave him alone, I go check to see if Kel has made it off my property yet. She hasn't. But no sooner than Kel makes it to the end of the sidewalk a familiar vehicle approaches. I knew it was Mikleo. I run back into the kitchen as Obi is kicking his litter. Not trying to intrude, I pull him out as a small yellow clump of sand gets knocked out of the box. I put Obi down and tell him to go somewhere. He takes off running as the doorbell rings. I shove the make shift cat litter box under the sink. I turn around and notice the clump. It resembled the plate of wafer cookies I had set out on my table. Thinking fast I pick it up with my bare hands and toss it in. I go and open the door, greeting Mikleo with a wet handshake; apologizing for it by citing I've been doing dishes. I invite Mikleo in, directing him to the kitchen offering him some of the soft bake cookies on the table. He seems more concerned with small areas of my house, Opening my refrigerator. I ask him to explain what he’s looking for. He replies "a project and a box " My thoughts stand still as I recall the book and the brick of cash I just passed off. Mikleo reaches out to the table and grabs a handful of cookies missing the unique one. As he chews the cookies flakes fall from his chin. He reaches down for another handful of wafers acting as if he is in his own home. As he pokes his tongue through his voided teeth sloshing the cookie around he finally scoops up my biggest fear - Obi's lemon drop piss cookie! He shovels it into his mouth and bites down. A liquid begins to drip down his chin through his beard taking flakes with it. As soon as the first drip hits the floor, I prepare my excuse for what he just ingested. (To be continued)
By WTFCats! 6 years ago in Petlife
Purrfect facts about cats
Since the dawn of time, cats have been everywhere, whether worshiped by gods, used as pest control aboard ships, made into pop culture icons and internet sensations, and of course in our homes and our hearts.
By Rachelle Baird6 years ago in Petlife
Interesting Cat Facts!
Things you might not know about cats... Did you know...that cats wink at you when they want to tell you they love you? I have two cats, Raider is the gorgeous boy in the photo, before he was Raider, his name was Juan, I immediately changed it upon adopting him from a local shelter (East County Animal Rescue, yes I am plugging them) He lived in a Petco for about 2 months before he got my attention by reaching out and grabbing my shirt every morning when I walked by him to clock in at work. Then I have Criminal...he started out as Diego, but then he decided that acting like a criminal was a good idea, doing things like dumpster diving, dragging the bread off the counter, and jumping up on places he knows he isn't allowed...so essentially he was being a cat. He remained "Diego" for about a month before my husband started saying "your just a little criminal" so we started calling him Criminal and it stuck. Criminal and Raider wink at me all the time...and if you wink back, that tells them you love them too.
By C. M. Sears6 years ago in Petlife
I, Zhamir
I, Zhamir, was not always a cat. You might not believe me when I tell you this, and that is quite natural. I’ve grown fond of sunlit patches of grass and glass-stained windows, small boxes, and yarn. I believe I’ve adapted quite well to life as a four-legged lesser god, in fact. I’ve almost made such a behavior an art.
By Cristina Carvajal6 years ago in Petlife