This week I expanded my inter-spee-cees exploration, venturing into No-Dogs-Land to meet, an converse with, not one, not two, not three – but 25 or so fellow pets of The Fee-line Purr-sway-zhun!
They hang out at a Cool Kibbles (or should I say Cool Catnip) place called Cattitude Cat Café. No Woof!
The front room had lots of Cat Stuff anna welcome desk where a nice lady greeted me an my assistant an ushered us through a door into a very neat, tidy, an SPAY-shus living room with soft music, comfy chairs, sofa, table-an-chairs an lotsa Cool Kibbles cat trees, cat pickshurs, cat mural, an cat shelfs all along the walls, high up, so the cats could leap from one to another all around the room. Anna whole buncha well-groomed cats of all sizes an colors happily lounging all over the place. They glanced up briefly when we walked in, but none of ’em freaked out, thank Lassie.
A sporty gray tabby confidently approached with what I’ve come to recognize as a Cat Smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Bonzo. Welcome to Cattitude! Please, have a seat. I’m the O-fish-ull Spokescat. My o-FISH-ull name is Steph Purry, for a famus Golden State Warriors basketball player, but you can call me GJ (short for my nickname, GrayJoy). This is our Mom-ager Shari Tessier. We mostly call her Mom. Our Dad’s Joe. May we get you an your assistant a water? Tea? Milk? Ovaltine? A liddle snack? A Crumpet perhaps? (We get our duh-lishus VEE-gun baked goods from a speshul place.)”
“Thank you so much, GJ. I think we’re good. I’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you. All. This is a very nice place! So peaceful.”
“Well,” GJ replied, “It is mostly pretty peaceful, ’cept when it’s time for the LASER mouse-chase or the Morning Zoomies. Then it gets a liddle Catnip Nuts! Actually, we just finished Morning Zoomies so we’re all pretty chill. An pooped. Anyhoo, let me innerduce you to The Clowder.”
“Beg pardon? What the fluff is The Clowder?”
“Oh, sorry. That’s what a bunch of cats is called,” he explained.
“Oh. Why?”
“No cloo,” he replied. “Humans came up with it, so …”
“Ahh. Got it.” I said. “So, who’s who? An what’s YOUR story?”
“Me, I was the Very First Cat resident! I was a ‘Congratulations on Opening Your Cattitude Cat Café’ gift to Mom from her son, Luke. Cool Catnip, right? An here’s a Fun Cat Fact: Cat Cafes started onna EYE-lun far away called tie-WAN in 1998 (about 150 Cat years ago). Then some visitors from Japan took the idea home with ’em an now there’s a bunch in Japan.
“Woof!, that’s Seriously Cool Kibb … er Catnip,” I replied.
“So,” GJ continued, “humans can relax, hang out with us, have snacks. Here, several of us are House cats, this is our ackshul HOME, an we have COLLARS. Others of us could be adopted, an are here mostly cuz nearby shelters uh-K-shu-nully have cat overflows. We all HAFTA be Well buh-HAVED an Chill around humans. Plus, we ALL hafta have the No Kittens Pruh-seed-jur. We don’t have cages. We can be wherever we want. I’ll innerduce you around.”
GJ turned to a hansome gold-an-white cat curled up on their Mom’s lap. “This is Dodge. He’s just a year in human. Still kinda kitten-y.”
“Hello, Dodge,” I said in my Soft, Conversing-With-Cats voice.
“Hello, also, Mr. um, Bonz. You’re my first dog,” Dodge replied.
“It’s an honor!” I told him.
Several cats were clustered around my assistant, who had produced cat treats from The Satchel. A gray tabby approached, tail swishing. “I am Eliza MEW-little,” she said proudly.
“It’s from a MEW-si-cal.”
From atop a cat tree ruh-zembling an ackshull TREE, a beautiful Calico/Siamese mixture called, “Helloooo, Mr. B! Excuse me for not gettin’ up. I’m Hiss-tine Angel. I’m havin’ my Beauty Rest.”
A super sleek black cat with white accents jumped into their Mom’s lap, as Dodge jumped down. “I’m Mr. Whiskers,” he said. “I thought all dogs chased cats. Are YOU gonna do that?”
“Abso-woofin’-lutely NOT,” I assured him. “I have great respect for cats. Some of my best frens are cats.”
A couple of preddy white cats with black “hats” were playin,’ an I noticed a coupla others that looked just like ’em lounging onna shelf.
“Meet Brosey, Toesy, Rosie an Cap,” GJ said. “They’re Hemingway cats cuzza havin’ 6 toes per paw, like the cats a human called Hemingway had. I think he wrote stuff, but not about cats.”
“I’ve heard about him,” I commented, noticin’ two brown tabbies investigating The Satchel, by then unfortunately devoid of cat snacks. They looked x-zack-like each other.
“That’s Martin an his sis, Maggie. She was totally a RAY-cloos cuzza never bein’ so-shul-ized, but now she’s Her Own Confident Cat.”
“I’m very proud of my sister,” said Martin with a large smile.
“Who’s this liddle muffin,” I asked, referring to a small gray kitten-y looking resident, wearin’ a collar with a bone-shaped tag. When he turned, I couldn’t help but notice his total lack of tail.
“I’m not a muffin, Mr. Dog, sir. I’m a MANX. My name’s Milo. Pleased to meet you, Jus don’t chase us, OK.”
“I’d NEVER do that, Milo,” I assured him.
Turning to GJ, I inquired about everyone’s food an wader. “We each have our own food dish an we also have several Cat Fountains for Proper Hi-DRAY-shun,” he explained.
I could have remained chatting with GJ an the others all morning. Headin’ home I was thinkin’ how I’d learned even more of what GJ calls Fun Cat Facts. An remindin’ myself to Google that mysterious word ‘Clowder.’
Till next time,
