"She's an indoor kitty..."

The outdoor one we used to have (before FIV claimed him) used to leave half-devoured ones on the doorstep.

When I was a kid, we had one bring a bat into the house one time. That was quite a scene.

Counterpoint: Pets are the best part of life. My life would be so much poorer without the joy my kitties and dog bring. Also what else would I have to talk about at the dinner table?

My fave part is coming up with all the dumb names. We have Laszlo (his Official name), Laz, Lazopolous, Lazbian, Lazamatazz, Razzlo, Fattyboombah, Chonkers, Big'n'Fat, and Fuckface.

LOL

My mother in law named her Black Lab (who now lives with us) "Lorenzo." I have rechristened him "Larry."

We lived in the country. Our cat Girlie Girlie was gifted to us by my older sister from the Guru Ram Dass Ashram in Buffalo and had only been fed brewer's yeast for her entire life. She came to us with a big jar of brewer's yeast and was so skinny. We were very skeptical of that and eventually fed her meat, which almost drove her crazy - it was like a lightning bolt for her. We let her outside and she became a predator, killing birds and mice and bringing them to our doorstep

Otm: Peach, Peachie, Pooch, Peachypeachypoopypie, Floof, The Floofer, Mrs. Land-shark, /Butch, Butchie, Butchinator9000 (what he most commonly goes by), Mr. Chunks (he’s been on a diet lately so this name has sadly gone out of fashion)

We let Tuffy out in the backyard on a leash; his collar is loose enough for him to escape from it if he gets caught. Even on those rare occasions when he has gotten loose, he knows where he is and always returns to the back door. I don't think he'd even make a concerted effort to leave the yard, unless he was caught up in a chase.
He's not very good at catching things but I do have to credit him for making me vegan.

He's not very good at catching things

Usually only cicadas.

When I was a kid, I had an outdoor cat that survived all kinds of disasters: a near drowning in the pond, being run over by a car, being bitten by a dog (and getting a huge, foul-smelling abscess in his leg). We moved to a slightly more rural area and he vanished. The vet speculated he got carried off by an owl.

The Butchinator lives either on our bed, or on top of the beer fridge in the backyard. He is the keeper of booze in the house, one has to give him a little boop on the nose every time they get a drink. Privileged to have a kitty who can live outside yet doesn’t leave the house boundary (unlike another cat we have who we’re still trying to change the habits of; an impossible battle)

I’m sorry jimbeaux, I laughed at that last sentence and I know I shouldn’t have.

That family cat who ate the rat was the same. I think he outlasted something like 5 other cats that came and left the family in his life time (he’s still around). Got run over, constantly came home with scratches on his face from street kitty fights. He was the nicest house cat in the world during the day, but lord knows what he got up to at night

I laughed too. I was pretty bummed at the time. I mean, he wasn't anyone's idea of a lap cat, but he'd been with us for so long and had survived so much it seemed like he'd live forever. It didn't seem right for him to end like that. I hope he gave the owl a hard go of it, anyway.

My fave part is coming up with all the dumb names. We have Laszlo (his Official name), Laz, Lazopolous, Lazbian, Lazamatazz, Razzlo, Fattyboombah, Chonkers, Big'n'Fat, and Fuckface.

I would never belittle Baxter’s dignity by expecting him to tolerate “Biggidy Baxter” or “the ol’ Baxterino.” I simply pay him the respect of a peer by saying “g’day cunt” when he enters a room inquisitively.

For all we know, he could have won that fight and now sits enthroned as the conquering overlord of the native owl society

I think that was the first time I ever thought of owls as anything but wise.

My wife highlighted to me the other night that the only being on this earth that I have ever called a bastard is Butch, who is referred to as such literally everyday as he sneakily flings a claw up at my toe hanging on the edge of the bed, or bites my finger at 3am, or knocks all my books of my bedside table at 4am, or meows at the door at 6am, or vomits on the floor at 7am.

It cannot be overstated; Butch really is a bastard

jimbeaux's cat:

https://i.imgur.com/Qms7YD0.gif

Give it another 50 years, and cats and owls will evolve into a symbiotic relationship where the owls pick up the cats in their talons and do regular air raids on smaller bird societies, splitting the spoil in two. You’re cat could have been the start of a new zoological revolution.

Lol Trayce

(I'm sorry if that was insensitve, I didnt mean it to be!)