 The
Cat's Meow
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| Issue 9, vol 5 | The "New & Improved" Cat | September 30, 2006 |
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Cat
Care: How to Play With Your Cat Keep your
cat healthy and maximize bonding. Playing with
cats is not only fun, but it provides valuable exercise for cats
of all ages and just as important, it strengthens the bond with
your feline friend, which benefits you both. Kittens will play with
anything. Just keep dangerous items like string, plastic bags, small
indigestibles, and just about everything else away from the insatiable
kitten if you're not supervising him. You'll enjoy playing with
him with his toys, but be aware that he should learn early on that
your hands are not toys. If you ignore this advice, you may learn
to regret it when he grows up and develops full sized teeth and
claws. Older cats might not be so fast and active but they still
appreciate and benefit from the play. Playing with
your cat lets your cat hone his hunting skills, seeking the prey,
making the stealthy approach, pouncing with conviction and enjoying
the kill. It also maintains his health and weight, releases aggression,
helps to gain confidence, strengthens the bond, is good cat care
and is great fun. Some good cat
toys you can buy: balls with bells in them, catnip mice, and wand
toys. Some other great toys you already have at home: wads of paper
shaped into balls, ping pong balls, marbles, string with something
tempting on the end and plastic tops from bottles. The old favorite,
the cardboard box, is a great source of fun, especially when you
are teasing the cat by tapping your finger on the other side or
waggling your finger through the hand hold hole. Put the toys away
after playtime. If a toy is always out, it can become boring, just
like a dead mouse. Use your imagination and don't make it easy for
the cat. Make him stretch to reach into a box to reach the toy.
Let him win. Don't make it too easy, let your cat enjoy the pursuit.
But when he comes in for the 'kill', let him score a direct hit
and savor the thrill of victory. Afterwards praise and fuss your
kitten and give him a nice big cuddle. A fifteen minute
session once a day and a second one if possible should be your aim.
Of course we are all busy but it should be easy to find this time
somewhere, what can be better than unwinding after a day's work
by playing with your cat. Cat care and its knock on effects are
important for you cat and for you the owner as well. So find that
time and improve your bonding by playing with your feline friend. -------------- I hope this
article has given you some ideas on the benefits of good cat care
and plying with you cat or kitten. Make a start today and see the
benefits. Bruce Walls is an author and webmaster at http://www.catcarefacts.com
(Article Source: EzineArticles.com) Reprinted
from Arcamax
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| Faith She is a very independent cat but out of a litter of 3. All look alikes. She looked me straight in the eye and that was all it took. She was mine. She is my faithful kitty. (Sent by Peggy of Smithfield, WV USA) Chloe
and Max A very skinny "Mama Cat" and her litter of newborn kittens were taped inside a cardboard box and left on a veterinarian's doorstep. There she was nursed back to health and her kittens were nurtured and placed with families. We adopted Mama Cat and named her Chloe. The black and white cat, who we named Max, was born to a feral cat under our deck. His mother would leave him alone all day while she went hunting. We fed him and gradually domesticated him. Chloe took over mothering duties. Both cats are now spayed/neutered and living the good life they deserve. (Sent by Carol of Springdale, AR USA) |
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In 1941 The Great Attack came to Barbwire, California. This attack was a boundless ocean of rats and Barbwire was going to need every single kitty-cat it could get its hands on! Before the Rat-War, there had never been any cats in Barbwire. Now, not only were they here, they were genuine, honest-to-goodness celebrities ... An inscribed bronze plaque was created to honor the cats and the plaque was permanently mounted over the entrance of the Town Hall. Installment 5 Now, believe me, I could sure understand it if you think all this was overdoing it a little bit. But if you lived here in Barbwire, you’d understand. If it wasn’t for these mysterious and slightly wacky little animals, our special little town would, quite literally, have been wiped clean off the map. Barbwire had gotten back down to business. All signs of the war were soon healed. Life returned to normal. The passage of time was once again measured only by the ordinary events that confirm that we are alive; births, family, work, christenings, funerals, fireworks, parades, new white paint, and new grey hairs. But as the years have come and gone, the respect and honor that we owe to our furry and steadfast allies has been gradually forgotten. From the beginning, Barbwire has been a very well kept secret. So despite the fact that it’s the greatest place in the world to live, our population hasn’t changed much in the intervening years. Put at 3,766 in 1941 and 8,155 today in 2006, we’ve barely doubled in size in sixty-five years. Coincidentally, our cat population has also only doubled. Due to a very clever band of coyotes with which we share this area, Barbwire hasn’t seen the shameful tragedy of out-of-control cat (or dog) over-breeding that afflicts every major city, nor the wholesale slaughter of its innocent victims. From an original twenty-four cats in 1941, we now have either fifty-three or fifty-four, depending on whether you ask Mrs. Santos or Mrs. Cotter. And nearly every single one is descended from the twenty four bounders, cads, and scoundrels who had been left stranded here after the war. For a couple of years, Mrs. Santos, (whose husband had been on the original road-crew) kept detailed (and surprisingly interesting) genealogical records of our town cats. Predictably, she soon found it completely impossible to keep track of who was begetting whom. Mrs. Santos learned that while human genealogical charts are called “Family Trees”, feline charts look more like “Family Tumbleweeds.” It just so happens (and I’m sure you knew that this was coming), that I myself have a cat. But she’s one of few cats in this town that are not descended from The Twenty-Four. I found her quite by accident while driving through the town of Oaxaca, Mexico. Her name is Lupe, and without a doubt, she’s the prettiest, smartest, and sweetest cat that ever lived. Here’s what happened: In May of 1993, my wife and I were on vacation on the Mexican Gulf. We had just walked out of a café, and I as reached out to drop my napkin in a trash can, my eye picked up a tiny movement. When I looked closer I saw a new-born kitten. It was maybe three inches long, and a pale shade of pink. I knew it couldn’t be more than three or four days old. Despite the loud and profane protests of my wife, I picked it up. “Oh my God!” She shrieked, “Put that back! It’s a mouse!” I said, “No it's not, it’s a kitten.” “No, no, no! That’s even worse! You know how much I hate cats!” Her anxiety level was clearly rising fast. I told her, “You don’t hate cats, you’re just afraid of them.” It didn’t help. Over the years we’d had this nearly identical “conversation” at least three hundred times. “What do you mean, afraid? I HATE those things!” She began jumping back and forth, from one foot to the other. I tried again, “Listen to me Terry! Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin hated cats. All tyrants and control-freaks hate cats. You’re just afraid of them, because when you were kid, your parents lied to you and told you that cats are sneaky and dangerous. “Dammit, Clayton, stop trying to psychoanalyze me! I hate it when you do that!” She growled the words between clenched teeth. “I’m not! Honest! I was there! I heard the whole thing!” (My wife and I grew up next door to each other, and we had always been best-friends.) And I thought that as long as I was finally gonna tell her, I might as well tell it all. “And by the way, I hate to tell you this, but they also lied when they told you that you’re allergic to them.” “Wrong! I am too allergic.” “No you’re not! I remember exactly what happened! You and I were playing Lego’s in your den. You asked your Mom and Dad if you could have a cat, because I had a cat and you really liked her. Remember Muffy?” Her vision passed through me as she remembered. Her eyes filled up and almost overflowed, and her face softened as she remembered my old cat Muffy. Muffy was pure black. So black that when the desert sun shined on her, her fur would shimmer and sparkle, and at the right angle it would turn dark blue. Muffy was also, without a doubt, the prettiest, smartest and sweetest cat that ever lived. Terry and Muffy had been great pals, until Terry’s parents torpedoed them. Muffy had been a descendant of The Twenty-four Even so, she was amazing and fantastic. I said, “Come on, let’s go. We can talk about it on the way to the vet’s office. Would you drive please?” ... (Continued in the next issue of The Cat's Meow) David
Perry lives in the High Desert of southern California with his
two cats, Psycho and Lupe. His first novel "WHISPERING CATS" is
due out mid-year 2007. |
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