Today In A Magazine Article ...

In previous blogs, I have mentioned my cat Pickles (full name Sweet Pickles). She was a surprise “housewarming” gift from a co-worker when I moved into this new apartment about nine months ago. Pickles is fun, frisky, and loves to scratch my furniture and chew cords. I was ill-prepared for having a pet because, as a child, my family never had pets. No cats, dogs, fish, hamsters, turtles, guinea pigs, rabbits, snakes … you get the picture. But Pickles and I have made our peace and she’s a hell of a lot easier to keep alive than a houseplant.

About a month ago that same co-worker stopped me and told me a “tale of woe” concerning the lady whom donated Pickles (formerly known as “Topsy” I discovered) for my gift. It seems this woman needs to have knee surgery and is going to stay at her daughter’s place in Virginia while recuperating. The recovery and associated physical therapy was estimated to require between eight and 10 weeks, which was great with this lady’s family because they had been trying to get “Grandma” to move in for years. But the hitch was that this lady still had another pet cat … Turvy … and her grand-daughter is allergic to cats. Topsy Turvy … well, at least Pickles’ original name makes some sense now.

So to make a long story short … Pickles (the extrovert) was reunited with her introverted sister (they are actually from the same litter) who I renamed Moo (short for “Moo Goo Gai Pan”) and all hell has broken loose. In the dictionary, the term “topsy turvy” is deined as “confused, disorderly, or an inversion of the natural order.” Truer words have never been printed on high-quality paper. These two cats are insane when they rough house, and it’s MY HOUSE they are chewing and scratching their way through. Blinds … curtains … earbuds … lamp cords … shoe strings …dish towels … anything and everything is fair game.

And then there’s the “stigma” of being a double cat owner. I recently read an article where the writer said, “Single men and cats are like a burger and broccoli. Separately they are okay, but together it just seems off.” When I meet people I sometimes lie about my feline flatmates because people assume a single man my age with cats is “troubled” and destined for a life of loneliness and tea parties with his still-in-the-original-packaging action figures! P.S. … they are not dolls, people!!

So it’s time to defend my cats’ honor as well as my own!! Here’s the scoop …

The domesticated cat … Felis catus … has been associated with humans for more than 9,500 years. These little furry felines have been valued for providing companionship, preying on pests and vermin, and even inspiring entire civilizations. Mine mostly chew stuff.

The ancestors of domesticated cats lived about 10 million to 15 million years ago and share genetic “stuff” with lions, tigers, cougars, and other ferocious “kitties.” During the evolution process, domestic cats really haven’t changed that much. They are still small, have a strong social nature and love of play, display high intelligence and a system of communication, and still possess their innate hunting skills and abilities.

It has always been said that domesticated cats were first prominent in Egypt, but more recent discoveries trace their first appearances to Cypress and Africa just under 10,000 years ago. But ancient Egyptians definitely raised the bar on the treatment of cats. Around 3500 B.C., many Egyptians worshiped cats and looked at them as embodiments of their gods. Some prayed to them and pampered them ridiculously. Some protected them because of their abilities to hunt and kill mice and other destructive vermin. There were even elaborate funerals for pet cats and equally horrible punishments for individuals who harmed these beloved felids. There have been hundreds or ornate caskets found with carefully mummified cats inside, as well as embalmed mice for “treats” in the afterlife. Historic records also show that some Egyptian cat owners shaved off all their hair to mourn the loss of their pets. If a home caught fire in ancient Egypt, the cat was saved first. The Egyptians also honored and revered Bast, a goddess with the body of a woman and the head of a cat, as the protector of these sacred animals and as a deity who bestowed luck and favor on people who cared for her “many children.”

Many other civilizations, too, catered to the whims of cats. The Romans of the 1st and 2nd century treated domesticated cats like royalty. Romans are also believed to have been responsible for the spread of cats to most of Europe. In Norse mythology, Freyja … the goddess of love and fertility … rode in a chariot pulled by cats. In Japan, the Maneki Neko is a cat that brings good fortune. And many seafaring tribes and peoples took cats aboard ships because they believed these animals brought luck and could perceive approaching storms and dangers. It is this last practice that is believed to have spread the domesticated cat to other continents.

Today, there are more than 500 million domesticated cats in the world. According to a 2009-2010 study endorsed by the Humane Society of the United States, there are 93.6 million “owned” cats in the U.S. … about 16 million more than pet canines. On average, one third of American households have at least one cat; the average “cat owner” has 2.45 pets.

The domestic cat was first classified in 1758 in the 10^th edition of Systema Naturae. Currently, there are 41 recognized breeds of domesticated cats. Purebred cats (or pedigree cats) are animals whose entire lineage has been maintained within one standard breed; these animals represent less than 10 percent of the overall cat population. Many other breeds are grouped into loose “clowders” (a group of cats) such as domestic longhair, domestic shorthair, and other nomenclature based on coat length, fur pattern, body type, or any number or genetic quirks created by a cat’s more than 20,000 separate genes and 38 chromosomal pairs.

But the real question still remains: why choose a cat for a pet? First off, cats have super powers. Cats have additional thoracic and lumbar vertebrae that provide it with exceptional mobility, flexibility, and balance. They even possess “floating clavicles” that allow them to move through tight spaces. Cats have a more acute sense of hearing than people (and dogs!). They can hear an incredibly wide range of frequencies as well as fainter noises in part because of their large, movable outer ears which both amplify sound and provide better source direction for the noises. Cats also have super vision … because of retinal formations and slit pupils, cats can see in near darkness by focusing all available light. But they see in only blues and greens … weird! Add to the list that cats have “super jaws” and specially formulated teeth to kill prey; a sense of smell that can perceive one part per billion of a substance in catnip; protractible claws for defense and hunting; a special gait similar to camels and giraffes that assures balance and even stealth; and a system of whiskers that provide sensory information on everything from air currents to the dimensions of gaps in small spaces. And don’t forget the super metabolism … cats have extremely efficient digestive systems, can tolerate temperatures up to 133° F with access to water, and can conserve heat for cold weather conditions by reducing the flow of blood to their skin. Cats should come with capes!!

The second reason to choose a cat as a pet is that cats can talk. Numerous studies have documented that cats use a variety of sounds and body language to communicate with each other and with their human caregivers. Ask any cat owner and they will confirm that the meows, purrs, trills, growls, squeals, and hisses from their little “furballs” all correlate to very specific needs and emotional states. Likewise, cats will make body contact, move their ears and tails, fall into a self-grooming pattern, or even do the “kneading” trick with their front paws to express themselves. They even emit pheromones (undetectable by humans) to convey their feelings and emotions to each other. Dogs just bark. Hamsters just keep running in their wheels. And turtles … turtles just take up space.

Thirdly on my list … cats keep you healthy. Although there are an estimated 400,000 minor cat bites inflicted on pet owners each year, cat ownership has been shown to provide greater mental health through affection and companionship. Reduced physical responses to stress also are a benefit of owning a cat. Studies in America, Switzerland, England, and other locations have shown reduced blood pressure in at-risk cat owners as well as a corresponding lower risk of heart attacks and strokes.

And finally … and maybe most importantly … cats just make better pets from a practical standpoint. According to more Humane Society data, cat owners spend less money on routine vet visits than do dog owners. Cats use a litter box for “their business” … a natural instinct not dimmed in millions of years … so they do not need to be taken outside or specially trained. If something comes up at the office or if an opportunity presents itself for overnight or weekend travel, a cat can be left to its own devices. Cats are generally low maintenance, providing a sense of freedom to their owners. A dog … oh, no! A dog would need a sitter or a walker or a stay at a kennel in a similar situation.

As I wrote this blog post, I was feeling good about my relationship with my pets … aside from the destruction of personal property. Then I saw some information that actually made me a little smug. Suddenly, owning a pair of feisty felines made me a little cocky.

A higher percentage of cat owners both adopted their pets from animal shelters and had their animals spayed or neutered as compared to their canine-loving counterparts. Additionally, a psychological study conducted at the University of Texas at Austin put “cat people” in a good light when researching the differences between “us” and “dog lovers.” Looking at personality traits and the connections between people and their pets, subjects who associated themselves with cats were noted to be more open and flexible. And then a separate study conducted in the UK found that a higher percentage of cat owners (over dog owners) held advanced educational degrees.

So people … and dog owners, in particular … quit dissing on our kitties!!

POINT OF RANT: My one cat is a “polydactyl,” meaning she has extra toes. And extra toes mean extra claws. Maybe all the scratching and chewing is just in her “super powered mutant” nature! SNIKT!!

Today At The Pet Superstore ...

I had a close friend named Gail. We met when she was hired by my employer and, because we had similar backgrounds and shared a dry sense of humor, we became lunch buddies and fast friends. Then tragedy struck ... Gail gave me a cat.

It was a complete surprise ... I was not in the market for a pet and I'm pretty sure I hadn't mentioned a burning need for feline companionship to Gail during sandwiches at Applebee's or one of our too-frequent work breaks. But what do you do? "Thanks, but no thanks ... please return this living, breathing thing to whence you found it."

So after leaving work early to purchase food (dry and wet), cat litter, litter pan and scoop, special "deodorized" litter disposal bags, and two or three amusing (a.k.a. stupid) pet toys, Gail met me at my newly-acquired apartment and transferred custody of a five-month old female Calico she insisted be called "Fluff." I was thinking that since she didn't fork over a dime for the $50 plus in bring-a-baby-home supplies, she had little say in the name. In fact, within a few days, Fluff became "Sweet Pickle" because while she ignored the brightly-colored cat toys, she thoroughly enjoyed batting at and rolling around a small jar of gherkins I had sitting on an open shelf. Sometimes it's "SP" for short.

Our cohabitation started out okay. Sweet Pickle took to the litter box like a pro and we developed a quick understanding of her food preferences ... "paws up" for salmon- and tuna-flavored food and "paws down" to chicken, this point often made with a dash of kitty upchuck. She even developed a cute little romance with my laptop, purring at it lovingly while she scratched her chin on the edges of the screen and nuzzled the side vent that emitted warm air. Hey, maybe this pet thing would be okay. We'd develop a system of being buds. Maybe I'd even arrange a playdate for SP and the "Surprised Kitty." (See March 17 posting.)

Then the "bad things" happened. The first was a chewed up pair of Ipod earbuds. Then the bathroom blinds were attacked in what I think was a racially-motivated hate crime, but there were no witnesses. Then my new cushions for my dining room chairs developed mysterious "slits" in them, allowing the foam padding to playfully peek out at guests. The list of damages continues to grow.

And now I'm faced with another dilemma ... I may have to change Sweet Pickle's name to "Mr. Clean" because she's obviously going bald. Where is all this fur coming from?! Over the past four days, I have collected enough loose fur to build another cat. I kid you not ... I can barely touch her and the hairs literally fly from her body at supersonic speeds to adhere to my clothes, furniture, curtains, air molecules, everything.

I know that humans, especially us males, are cursed with hair loss trends that stem from a combination of heredity, nutrition, and environment. And science blames our "follicle abandonment" on a sex hormone called DHT which increases as we age. DHT causes the width of hair shafts to diminish, so that, over time, hair become fine and wispy or jumps ship altogether.

Like most animals, cats have developed thick coats of fur to protect them from the elements. Once or twice a year, major seasonal changes should cause a cat's coat to thin (or shed). Domesticated cats (like indoor pets), however, are somewhat confused ... their natural link to the seasons and light/dark cycles is out of whack. It's like their brains are saying "time to shed" and "time to grow" all the time.

Because of SP's lack of natural balance, I met Kim, an extremely perky sales associate at my local "pet supermarket." "You need to groom her more consistently and thoroughly," Kim suggests. That's cool, I think, because I love to pet Sweet Pickle ... she purrs like an old vacuum whose bag should have been changed like two weeks prior. So smiling Kim takes me to the grooming aisle where there are more choices than I would have guessed. There are combs and brushes that look like, well, combs and brushes. And then there are combs and brushes that look kind of like ice scrapers with bent wire bristles that "gently" pull and collect loose fur. All they really look is painful, and can imagine my cat turning one of them on me in the dead of night as payback ... no sale. I spot some devices that look like lint rollers with bad complexions. Kim assures me they would be an effective option, but I don't see how it would be aggressive enough.

Then, spotlighted in a dusty sunbeam that SP would love to play in, I spy the "Grooming Glove," a red silicone-like mitt with nubs that massage your pet while pulling away loose fur. Kim grabs one from the hanging rack and walks me over to a bin of yelping kittens for sale. She opens the box, dons the glove, and drops to a crouch to apply the tool to a small gray feline. It seems to like the thing and there is a good amount of fur that Kim easily grabs and discards. I'm sold.

Sweet Pickle, however, is not. SP hates the glove, or "Mitten of Doom" as I'm sure she thinks of it. She hisses when I put it on and runs to hide. The few times I've trapped her and actually used it, she growls in a strange lower register and her claws and I become "intimate." Lately, when I even think of getting the glove from the kitchen cupboard where it's stored, there is an audible displacement air ... POOF!! ... and the cat is gone to ground.

So I've given up my campaign against fur for a bit. And while Sweet Pickle flourishes, the friendship between Gail and I continues to dwindle. She clearly feels guilty about her pushy gift giving. At first, she would almost hound me for "pet updates," but my stories often contained the details of what the cat had damaged, ruined, or outright destroyed. Now Gail and I are reduced to basic pleasantries and an occasional wave in the parking lot ... lunch dates have not occurred in some time. Oh well ... life goes on.

POINT OF RANT: At my house, fur is always in fashion!

Today On YouTube ...

Ever had a really crappy day ... one where everything goes wrong or stresses you out to the point where you want to tear the face off the next person that even look at you funny? Consider this video, entitled "Surprised Kitty," your personal bomb squad.

POINT OF RANT: Cut the green wire!!