Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Kittenheads = a clowder of cats

According to AskOxford--which is my favorite dictionary website (what, you don't have one?)--the following are collective terms for groups of cats:

animal group or collective term notes

cats clowder
cluster or clutter
glaring
cats, wild destruction
dowt or dout also (perhaps erroneously) `dour'
kittens kindle or kendel also spelt `kinder'


According to the San Diego Zoo "pounce" is another one for cats. Surprisingly, there's nothing listed under "cats, kittenheads." Odd, that. Do any of my readers have any suggestions for appropriate terms for a pair of kittenheads?


My other favorites from the San Diego Zoo site include:
rattlesnakes: rhumba
alligators: congregation
owls: parliament

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Saturday, January 17, 2009

How To Tell if Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You

All of the following is shamelessly pasted from this website.

How to Tell Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You

Drawn by Matthew Inman, Founder & Designer of Mingle2

How to Tell Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You Kneading on you - your cat is checking your internal organs for weaknesses litter

I am currently considering the many ways to kill you

Cat is like: "Fuk. U. Gimmee cat fud."

Friday, January 9, 2009

The saga of Turbo, the amazing one-eyed pirate cat

By the way, the family has a cat named Turbo, which my father found on the side of the road in August of 2003. This was Turbo then:

This was Turbo in the summer of 2004:


Over last Christmas, I took this rather amusing (to my mind) video: Admittedly, for such a cute kitten, he didn't turn out to be the handsomest of cats. But he makes up for it with character. He's a tiny little thing--he must weigh about 8 lbs. or so--but he's got the personality of four larger such animals (or 6 dogs). In a showdown, he would probably best both of my cats (who clock in at around 12 lbs.), he's just that feisty. Also, he chases the dogs. (They deserve it.) But if you pick him up and pet him in a particular way, he'll fall asleep in your arms. Adorable.

A few months ago, my mumsey came home to find Turbo screaming--his eye had been punctured in what we assume was an epic, no-holds barred cat (or perhaps dog) fight. The vet had to remove his eye (poor little guy); at least he's still alive (which is more than can be said for my cat, Buffy, or my brother's cat, Cassidy, both of whom left the house (not together) and never came back within a few months of each other). This Christmas was the first time I'd seen him since his cyclopsisation.

(I have no idea who that weirdo holding the cat is.)