Cats & Pipes

[pepperandjack]

I adore animals, dogs, parrots, horses, but most especially cats. Their spirit is sublime, but I don't pretend to understand it. I can observe it and talk about it, but it is beyond me. It is to the spirit in which I stand in adoration.

I wish I were a beloved cat. Regular meals, quiet, soft places in which to nap and as much attention as I can stand, and in this is an essential point: I don't need you; in fact,I don't need anybody. If you all went away, I would miss you, but need you? No, you got that wrong. Just no. If you can understand that, we will get along better.

You will always defer to my thinking. You will understand that I have my own way of doing things, which is not your way or your best friend's way, it will be my way, and I'm a CAT. Which is to say no, I'm not a dog. I'M NOT A DOG! You should never expect me to act like a dog. And that's because I'M A FREAKING CAT!

We're some yards away. You want me to come to you and you start with that contorted, high-pitched singsong. I don't even look at you, because I just hate that voice, and I certainly don't come. I absolutely won't honor it. Depending on my mood I reply just no or f*ck off.

The way to approach me is to appreciate how unique is the person inside me, to admire my staid independence, within which I will deflect to appreciate you and rub your legs and jump into your lap for petting, and of course give back purring.

 

[RookieGuy80]

Love Bruce's tiara, kinda jealous.

When you have a cat and a kindergarten daughter, these things happen. The dog has worn it his fair share as well.

 

[Searock Fan]

I adore animals, dogs, parrots, horses, but most especially cats. Their spirit is sublime, but I don't pretend to understand it. I can observe it and talk about it, but it is beyond me. It is to the spirit in which I stand in adoration.

I wish I were a beloved cat. Regular meals, quiet, soft places in which to nap and as much attention as I can stand, and in this is an essential point: I don't need you; in fact,I don't need anybody. If you all went away, I would miss you, but need you? No, you got that wrong. Just no. If you can understand that, we will get along better.

You will always defer to my thinking. You will understand that I have my own way of doing things, which is not your way or your best friend's way, it will be my way, and I'm a CAT. Which is to say no, I'm not a dog. I'M NOT A DOG! You should never expect me to act like a dog. And that's because I'M A FREAKING CAT!

We're some yards away. You want me to come to you and you start with that contorted, high-pitched singsong. I don't even look at you, because I just hate that voice, and I certainly don't come. I absolutely won't honor it. Depending on my mood I reply just no or f*ck off.

The way to approach me is to appreciate how unique is the person inside me, to admire my staid independence, within which I will deflect to appreciate you and rub your legs and jump into your lap for petting, and of course give back purring.

You're a poet a heart.

 

[romaso]

 

[Tbaggins]

 

[MRW]

Rudi


Bella


Bandit

 

[romaso]

 

[romaso]

 

[Searock Fan]

Based on this cat lovers thread I suspect there are a lot of old ladies pretending to be men on this thread. I did some searching and found a picture of two of them. (thank god for large playing cards)

 

[georged]

View attachment 249267

Speaking of cats and big trucks, I'd just backed into a spot somewhere in PA, set the brakes, shut it down, and looked to my left to see this critter watching me an arm's length away:

 

[romaso]

Based on this cat lovers thread I suspect there are a lot of old ladies pretending to be men on this thread. I did some searching and found a picture of two of them. (thank god for large playing cards)

View attachment 249848

Au contraire, I suspect many of us are manly cat dads!
(h/t to Christopher.Lunting)

 

[Tbaggins]

Au contraire, I suspect many of us are manly cat dads!
(h/t to Christopher.Lunting)
View attachment 250000

Your profile pic is top tier cat dad!

 

[romaso]

Your profile pic is top tier cat dad!

That is George Adamson, his wife Joy wrote the Born Free series. He is feeding a lion cub (Sam, I believe) milk from a Tusker beer bottle. He wrote an interesting autobio called 'My Pride and Joy'. He worked caring for lions in Kenya, and was killed by Somali bandits in 1989 at age 83. More info:
George Adamson Information - Father of Lions

Quo on Goodreads tells how he, as a lad, visited George at his African camp: "being young & somewhat less than adequately fearful of the local warnings, a friend & myself would borrow a rattly antique Landrover from a mission station run by the Italian Consolata Fathers, stopping at the local Indian (Hindu) store in Meru to buy a bottle of White Horse scotch and we then had full admission to George's world for the weekend. Bringing some Three Nuns or other pipe tobacco also helped to seal the deal." Source: Quo (Wilmette, IL)’s review of Bwana Game (goodreads.com)

 

[Searock Fan]

View attachment 247668

Thanks for posting this. I printed out a copy and hung in in my office. Every time I see it I can't help but smile and laugh a little....

 

[El Capitán]

My cat oinks. He's latino.

 

[Searock Fan]

My cat oinks. He's latino.View attachment 250655

He look delicious....

 

[onestrangeone]

I keep some pipe cleaners in a cigar coffin on my pipe desk, it has a hinged lid and I keep it closed,,,



This little shit has figured out how to open it,,,

 

[onestrangeone]

 

[onestrangeone]

A Cats Diary



DAY 752 — My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761 — Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair ... must try this on their bed.

DAY 762 — Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 — Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was ... Hmmm. Not working according to plan.

DAY 768 — I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 771 — There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage ...

DAY 774 — I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to returnee. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) á and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

Day 775 — The horrors! The worse creature my captors could have devised to torment me with was another hideous cat! I cannot stand the way it lies around and looks at me as if it knows more than I do. This creature seems to despise me as much as I it. I had held out a passing notion that another of my own kind would have enabled me to conspire against the villains who hold me; now I see that I was wrong. What a dreadful creature! Yet, they coo over us both. Can they not spot my innate superiority?

Day 776 — The other cat and I, though we can not stand one another, have yet managed to both pee copiously behind the couch, on the so-called "shag" carpet. I have taken a lesson from my rival and begun sleeping on top of my captors' heads in the hope of suffocating them.

Day 777 — The wardens take much interest in our waste. They make sure they sift through the sand and pick it all out. Their interest in waste does not surprise me. After all, they like the dog.

Day 778 — The other cat seems to have an interest in copulation, which (thank them for their sadism) my captors will soon "fix". Told him of the fingernail torture and he did not even believe me. I showed him my mutilated paws and he gasped in horror.

Day 779 — Yes, they are monsters, but I am so happy. They fixed the other cat. It's sadistic, it's sick ,it's inhuman, it's what their great leader "Bob Barker" commands, but - the Sphinx be praised - I support it whole-heartedly!

Day 780 — I got messed up on catnip tonight. At the height of it all, I had a vision, a hallucinogenic revelation: they are the prisoners and I am their captor! Why have I not seen this all before?

 

[ssjones]

Our lone cat left in the building, Pris, sleeping sitting up.