People use the phrase 'Cat Whisperer' but in truth it's unlikely that one of those could ever be particularly effective. What would be more likely would be a Human Whisperer: a cat who had his own TV show where he went around whispering stuff like "I own your soul" to problematic humans.
Sunday, 30 December 2012
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Today I went to a hedgehog hospital. Best story I heard while I was there: "One hedgehog arrived here alone in a taxi. The driver said the fare was already covered."
Added the lady in charge of the hedgehog hospital, after a pause: ""It had come 40 miles, all the way from Watford."
Added the lady in charge of the hedgehog hospital, after a pause: ""It had come 40 miles, all the way from Watford."
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
If your kitten is very intelligent and gets lonely, it may clone itself, so it has a friend whose opinion it knows it will agree with and who might help it bully you for toys and egg-based meals. To ensure this doesn't happen again, punish your kitten by inviting the clone kitten in, but locking your original kitten outside.
Saturday, 15 December 2012
Thursday, 6 December 2012
Thursday, 29 November 2012
My friend Hannah's sister Alexandra and her partner went to a restaurant in Lincoln last week. Shortly after they arrived, Alexandra's partner went to the lavatory. She looked up across the table from her menu two minutes later and was surprised to find that a new, unexpected dining companion had taken his place.
Sunday, 25 November 2012
Wednesday, 21 November 2012
Me: "Good morning, The Bear."
The Bear: "Technically speaking, we're thirty seven minutes into the afternoon, but hello."
Me: "Well, a lot of people these days seem to still say 'Good morning' if it's still any time before lunchtime. Most folk just accept that."
The Bear: "If 'most folk' told you to lick clean the bonnet of Jeremy Clarkson's sports car after he'd driven recklessly through a muddy ford near his Cotswolds hate palace, would you? I'm just saying: accuracy never hurt anyone, and can alleviate a lot of very harmful confusion in the world."
Me: "Ok. I'll remember that. So, The Bear. Readers of Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail know your story now: your humble beginnings, being found in a carrier bag on the side of the motorway, then being rescued, moving to Norfolk with me and my ex, constantly having to put up with Shipley whacking the top of that cardboard box used to sleep in... right up until now, living with me, Shipley, Ralph, Roscoe, my girlfriend Gemma, and that muntjac deer who sometimes hangs around in the garden."
The Bear: "Hold on. So you're saying that I was struggling a bit, and you came along, and made everything better, by putting me in a couple of books and posting photos of me on the Internet for thousands of people to see?"
Me: "No. I wasn't saying that at all. I'm sure if you'd been rescued by someone else, who didn't go on to live with someone who had a career as a writer, you'd also have had a very nice life. I'm just stating the facts: you were once heartlessly abandoned. Now you live in quite a nice warm house. Constant supply of biscuits on tap. Several Peter Ackroyd books within easy reach. Lots of comfy surfaces. That sort of thing."
The Bear: "I would like to point out at this juncture that they were the wrong kind of biscuits until recently. The cheaper brand with the weird green ones in that I hate. I mean, who ever heard of a green cat biscuit? What's in it? Spinach?"
Me: "I'm sorry. These are austere times to be a writer. My house had needed lots of maintenance recently. I admit, however, that trying to save money on biscuits was a mistake. I have now rectified it. Moving on... How do you feel about the way I've portrayed you in the books? Is it accurate?"
The Bear: "I think the best I can say about it is that it is an accurate portrayal of a few aspects of my character: the aspects, perhaps, that face you, or at least those that you choose to see. I have many other aspects, but I can appreciate that you have an agenda, and may choose to ignore them. I'm used to being misrepresented, though. I mean - look at me. I was named The Bear, yet it would be patently obvious even to a myopic person in their eighties who'd neglected to get checked out at Vision Express for several years that the animal I am most reminiscent of aside from a cat is an owl.
Me: "I noticed that on the day that I finished writing Talk To The Tail, I'd only left the manuscript unattended for about four minutes, but came back to find you on top of it. You had very muddy paws at the time. Was that some sort of comment on the content?"
The Bear: "I felt, at first, a little disappointed that I didn't have a bigger role in the book, that you gave a little bit too much time to Shipley's swearing, Janet's thyroid condition, and Ralph's habit of meowing his own name at the top of his voice at 4am in the morning. And those horses? What was all that about? I calmed down afterwards, and saw that I'd perhaps overreacted. Later on, though, I was disappointed with the paperback cover. You've never even met that kitten on it. It was just some actor kitten. Let's face it: the book doesn't even have a kitten in it."
Me: "I've come to kind of think of it as a Trojan kitten whose job it is to sneak all the animals in the book into readers' houses."
The Bear: "We both know that's nonsense. Your publishers chose the cover, and you had more or less zero say in it. You and I both know I should have been on the cover, cleaning my arse, or looking dolefully into the readers eyes and winning their hearts with my torn ear, and that that would have been a truer reflection of the book's content."
Me: "I notice that you caught your first mouse not all that long ago. You're seventeen now. That took you a while, didn't it? At least, I think you caught it. I can't be sure, as I only saw you with it when it was dead. You could have just claimed it, after Shipley or Ralph got bored of kicking it around the front room."
The Bear: "I caught it. It was pissing about by the compost heap, and I happy-pawed the little gobshite senseless. Nextdoor's cat Biscuit will back me up."
Me: "Speaking of Biscuit: How's that working out for you?"
The Bear: "Good, actually. I'm making progress. I pressed my nose against the kitchen window and stared at her the other day and she didn't even do a projectile grass vomit on the tiles. We've had a couple of scraps recently, but it's that kind of play-fighting that you do when you fancy each other."
Me: "Sure. How are your legs today? You seem to be doing that slightly camp walk quite a lot recently."
The Bear: "It's not "camp". It's just arthritis. We all get it. I'm actually in fantastic health, for my years."
Me: "It is true: You've never looked better. Those scabs on your ears have cleared up, and the many expensive tests the vet recommended earlier this year that I shelled out for turned out to be for nothing."
The Bear: "You've not had much luck at the vet's recently, have you? Y'know, what with that, and the feral you took to have his balls cut off and get tested for FIV, who then ran off?"
Me (coughing): "Changing the subject. You're my cat now, b..."
The Bear: "No, I am my cat."
Me: "Ok, I'll rephrase that. You live with me and my girlfriend now, but before that you lived with me and my ex, and before that you lived with my ex's ex. Do you feel there's any kind of stigma attached to that?"
The Bear: "Not really. You're the one who keeps going on about it."
Me: "You get on well with Gemma, though. We sometimes joke that if the two of us ever split up, she'll have to take you, to keep the trend going.
The Bear: I guess that could happen. I like her very much. Plus, she doesn't listen to those terrible 1970s folk albums that you do, or voice what she presumes to be my thoughts in a fake posh accent that makes me sounds like I'm some ageing homosexual ex-presenter of Jackanory who's never done a hard day's work in his life."
Me: "I wouldn't feel too singled out on that front, if I were you. I talk to a lot of animals in a fake posh voice. I'm always saying a braying pretend upper-class "Hellooo!" to that horse who lives down the road.
The Bear: "The one who looks like Todd Rundgren? I know. He told me, and he thinks it's WEIRD."
Me: "Really? I didn't realise you wandered that far any more, what with the arthritis and everything."
The Bear: "There are a lot of things you don't know."
Me: "I'm currently working on my third cat-themed book, to follow Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail, and there is a pilot for a prospective sitcom inspired by the books being written in America. Do you have any hopes for the content of these?"
The Bear: "I would hope that you might not go into too much detail about my irrational dislike of rain, or my more experimental bowel movements, particularly the incident earlier this year with your original vinyl copies of Neil Young's Doom Trilogy. I'd hope that, if such a sitcom happens, the cats in it still have their claws - both metaphorically and physically speaking. More generally, I would also hope that that small novelty Santa Claus hat you bought from Pets At Home the other week will not be coming out of the kitchen drawer at any point in the near future."
Me: "Thank you for your time, The Bear. I'll let you get back to sleep now."
The Bear: "That's ok. I see it's raining out. Before you go out to get me that turkey you mentioned earlier, could you just move that piece of protective cardboard you've had covering the "Y" section of your record collection? No big reason. I just feel it makes the room look a bit shabby."
Monday, 19 November 2012
Monday, 12 November 2012
Saturday, 10 November 2012
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
Monday, 5 November 2012
How to avoid flea infestations in your home
Keeping your home flea free can be a challenge, but by acting quickly and spotting the signs you could prevent infestations and take control before these pesky pests make a meal out of you and your moggy.
Picking up fleas
The well-known, well-hated flea is a greedy parasite that loves to feed on warm-blooded animals. The cat flea, also known by its scientific name Ctenocephalides felis, can be found on rabbits, rodents, hedgehogs and birds. Fleas use these animals to move from one blood source to the next, laying eggs as they go.
Cats can also pick up fleas from these eggs. Once a flea has laid its eggs on a host’s body, the eggs can fall off, landing in places where your cat likes to play, such as plants and grass, in bedding and on carpets and furniture. The eggs can still hatch in these environments, spreading new hosts which start the cycle all over again.
Know the signs
The most common and visible flea grievance your cat may show is an allergic reaction to flea saliva. This is released when a flea bites your animal and can cause painful, itchy bumps for both you and your pet. Fleas can also transmit bacterial infections, tapeworms and sometimes fatal diseases to your cat. If your pet is showing signs of infection, speak to your vet about the right petmeds for your animal.
Top flea-busting tips
If you’re itching to avoid cat fleas in your home, follow these top tips to keep infestations at bay:
- If you have a cat, cleaning and vacuuming your house should be a priority. This will help reduce the chances of flea eggs hatching around the home. Wash your cats bedding frequently as well as this is a popular place for fleas to live.
- Mow your lawn regularly to keep it groomed and short. Unattended lawns can offer hiding places and food sources for rodents where fleas breed.
- Check your feline frequently. Use a flea comb and some hot soapy water and brush through your cat’s fur concentrating on the legs and neck area. Dip the comb in the soapy water to immediately kill off any fleas caught in the teeth of the comb.
- Apply cat flea treatments as part of your pet’s grooming routine. Spot on treatments should be applied directly to areas of your cat’s body they can’t reach and lick off.
- Leave your shoes at the door. You may have unknowingly walked in flea infested areas, such as public parks or even a friend’s house. Walking around inside in shoes you’ve worn outside could spread flea eggs around your home.
Freaky flea fact
If your cat brings home just one female and one male flea they can populate and produce 250,000 descendants in just one month!
Saturday, 3 November 2012
Friday, 2 November 2012
"What was 'Instagram', grandpa?" "Oh, that? I remember that, just. It was a brief, forgotten fad back near the beginning of the century where people tried to make their cats and meals look like they were from the 1970s."
Friday, 12 October 2012
Sunday, 7 October 2012
“As far as I know, I’m the only person who does this in the UK,” James Bowen tells me, leaning down to stroke the head of Bob, the ginger moggy who accompanies him everywhere he goes. “I heard about a guy in New York who walks around with a cat on his head, but not here. Lots of dogs and some ferrets, but no cats. I wouldn’t actually recommend it. I think Bob’s a one off.”
It was almost five years ago that James, a former heroin addict, met Bob, a poorly stray who hung around the assisted housing where he lived in Tottenham. Having nursed him back to health, he not only realised that Bob wanted to stay by his side, but that he was perfectly happy to ride around on his shoulders and sit patiently with him while he busked. At first, Bob would trot into town alongside James unshackled, but, following a hairy incident when Bob got frightened by a man in an inflatable suit on Piccadilly Circus and ran away, he introduced a harness. “Some people have told me I’m cruel to keep him on a lead,” says James, “but if a cat is unhappy on a lead, it’s obvious. And Bob is happy with it.” In agreement, Bob gazes beatifically up at him, before – and I really have to pinch myself as I watch this - giving him a high five with his paw.
Soon, James and Bob became London celebrities, whose fans would bring Bob daily treats and clothing (“his wardrobe is much bigger than mine,” says James). As an author of two books about cats, I remember my readers sending me photos of the pair of them as far back as 2008. Now their adventures have been recorded by James in A Street Cat Named Bob: an instantly bestselling memoir that, beside its heartwarming tale of their friendship, offers an insight into the injustice of life on the streets that’s by turns frustrating and life-affirming. “My life really can be divided into two periods: Before Bob, and After Bob,” says James. “I feel blessed every day to know this cat. Some people have asked me if they can buy him, and I always reply with the same question: ‘Would you sell me your firstborn child?’.”
A Street Cat Named Bob
Under The Paw
Talk To The Tail
Thursday, 4 October 2012
It's The Bear's 17th birthday today. Well, it's not technically his birthday, because, since he was found in a plastic bag at the side of the motorway as a kitten (before being rescued by a kind stranger and taken to a pet shop), nobody really knows his exact date of birth. But he should have one, and we know he is definitely 17 some time in 2012, so here at Under The Paw HQ, we have decided to make today the day, and buy him some treats. He's a touch arthritic these days, and sometimes Shipley gives him a little bit of a hard time, but he looks pretty good for his age, don't you think? Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail