Bathroom Cats V
A. Langston
8 in. x 10 in.
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Hauser--Cat Out
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READ GARFIELD'S FIRST
CHRISTMAS LETTER
HERE!!!!
Praise for Garfield's First
Christmas Mewsletter ....
Please tell
Garfield that his Christmas Letter was one of the most heartfelt I've
ever read. Ed Kostro Dec 2005
CHECK OUT RICKY'S YOGA SESSIONS
HERE:
One cat is
company. Two cats are a conspiracy. Three cats is an attempted takeover.
Four or more cats is a complete coup!o
Shona
Steele (Australia) |
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5 GOOD REASONS FOR
HAVING YOUR CAT NEUTERED
DID YOU KNOW... |
Images brought to you by
'The
smallest feline is a masterpiece.' Leonardo da Vinci
'Dogs come when called.
Cats take a message and get back to you.'
'Of course, every cat
is really the most beautiful woman in the room.' Edward Verrall Luca,
essayist
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A morning kiss, a discreet
touch of his nose landing
somewhere on the middle
of my face.
Because his long white
whiskers tickled,
I began every day laughing.
JANET F FAURE |
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'Dogs have
owners. Cats have staff.'
'In
the middle of a world that has always been a bit mad, the cat walks with
confidence.'
Roseanne Anderson
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Jimmy, the Resident Daily Mews Feline Columnist has his own place
now:
click here
'Cats make one of the most satisfying sounds in the world: they purr
... A purring cat is a form of high praise, like a gold star on a test
paper. It is reinforcement of something we would all like to believe
about ourselves - that we are nice.' - Roger A Caras
"Of all the [cat] toys available, none is better designed than the
owner himself. A large multipurpose plaything, its parts can be made to
move in almost any direction. It comes completely assembled, and it
makes a noise when you jump on it." -- Stephen Baker
Garfield: 28.03.86 - 12.06.06

Click on the cartoon to take you to
Garfield's tribute pages
GARFIELD and those infamous 20th
birthday pictures. See both birthday hats and more ...
LETTER FROM GARFIELD is a final letter
written with great love to his Mum ...
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SPRACKLE'S SAFE ZONE
by Chris Pranger

I’ve always been a cat person to the extent that I can’t help but be compelled
to save every cat I come across. A few years ago I was half way through college
when a professor made the announcement that one of the other professors in my
program had a kitten they were trying to find a home for. Despite living in a
little apartment and having never owned a cat by myself, I figured I must be as
skilled as anyone else and jumped at the offer. And that’s when Sprackle, the
saddest cat in the world, entered my life.
The story goes that this little teeny kitten and her much larger brother were
found in a snow bank, scared and starving. After fostering them for a while, my
professor mentioned that the petite kitten couldn’t stay with her as she had a
few large dogs and it just wouldn’t work out in the long run. When meeting her
for the first time, she was immensely scared and very small. She was a
tortoiseshell calico with a very curved tail, though her most distinguishing
feature would be her eyes. They were perpetually set on “pathetic kitty” mode.
Regardless, I figured she’d be fine when she warmed up to me and named her
Sprackle after my grandma’s late great cat.
My first night was torture. Sprackle cried and cried and I didn’t know how to
handle it. I panicked and asked the original foster parent if she could take
Sprackle back. Thankfully, I was talked off the ledge and convinced to keep her
a bit longer. A bit longer turned into a month, at which time Sprackle had made
very little progress with me.
It
was at this time that Spring Break was rolling around, a time I’d be spending at
home with my parents. They still have two cats, Max and Alan, so I asked if it’d
be okay if I brought Sprackle for the week. They said it’d be fine and when they
met her for the first time they realized that she really did have that look of
“saddest cat ever.”
But then something strange happened. A little bed underneath a table in the
corner of the living room suddenly proved it had magical qualities and sucked
Sprackle right to it. The other two cats never seemed to sleep there, but
Sprackle decided it needed to be her special spot. An immediate change overcame
her and for some reason, despite being skittish and afraid of everything, once
Sprackle curled up in that spot nothing could bother her. She became Zen-like
and anyone could touch her without her fleeing or feeling sad or anything.
It’s now a few years later and Sprackle still lives with my parents where her
safe zone provides her with the comfort she needs and Max (the wonder cancer
cat) acts as her older bad-influence brother whom she adores. And best of all,
this little sad kitten is now a big chunk with a smile and a curious squeak.
Sometimes I guess all it takes is the perfect bed!
BIO: Chris Pranger is a
writer and editor for
www.SimplyCatBreeds.org where he helps provide a resource for cat lovers
everywhere to learn more about their favourite felines.
Other stories by Chris:
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