Points have been awarded for:
- Three a.m. bed pouncing and mommy toe biting.
- Fleeing in terror from Mr. Squirty Bottle.
- Identifying a secret napping locale behind Gillian Gill’s excellent Nightingales, a family history of Florence Nightingale’s family.
- Standing somersault.
- Alchemy: turning kibble molecules into yet more of this:
Still required for level-up:
- Total mastery of the litterbox.
- 100% leap from floor to couch, without paw contact.
- Crockery breakage.
- Tripping an ape level one – squawk and stumble.
- Leaving dusty litter prints on food preparation surface.
- Hacking NORAD.
Okay Canada, the feline overlords know you freaked out when you half-assed went metric back in the Seventies. However, it’s time you and the world took on standardized units of measurement.
The Cat of Ironhorse Ranch cares deeply about this:
Here are the units:
Distance is henceforth to be measured in: claws, paws, tails, short pounces, long springs, and unacceptables.
(Any distance sufficiently far as to require transport in a car = 1 unacceptable.)
Volume – Crumbs, kibbles, mouthfuls, gulps, hairballs, dust bunnies, kittens, cats, unreasonably large.
Time – Yowls. As catkind lives in the present, one unit of temporal measurement should do. One yowl is the unit of time that should pass between a cat’s making its wishes known and having them executed by the nearest available ape. (All other measurements are irrelevant.)
Also on the subject of time: nap-interrupting clocks that scare the crap out of us by periodically going “BONG” are totally banned. What is wrong with you apes that you think this is okay?
The above examples are not meant to cover everything, but should give you a decent idea of what’s required here. Strike a committee, work out the other measurements, and get it done. We make the proclamations. Logistics are, naturally, your problem.
Don’t get me wrong. I looove While You Were Sleeping. We saw it four or six times in the theater, during an incredibly broke spring while we were saving so I could go to Clarion West. But while catkind is included in this movie, they are something of an afterthought, and our feline overlords consider this to be, frankly, more insulting than if they had been excluded entirely.
Here’s the preview, wherein Sandra Bullock talks about going home to a cat as though it’s not enough:
Note, too, that Fluffy is left alone in the home of a coma patient who isn’t even their primary underbeing, for well over a week!
Thistle says: Shape Up, Humans!
Obviously the unnamed cat (unnamed!!) in Sandra Bullock’s apartment and Fluffy both need star billing in this picture. A good start might be to have Bill Pullman’s character take Fluffy home to his mancave. Both romantic leads should have the cats with them in subsequent scenes, except possibly the one where they get to falling down on ice. Pullman should probably live in Sandra’s building so that Fluffy only has to endure one car ride. Maybe instead of building chairs he should construct cat trees.
Alternately, Joe Junior could take on Fluffy, in which case the romantic outcome for the humans may have to change a bit. Your script treatments and suggested edits can be submitted here.
First, to be clear, this is about cats at work. Not cats who work. Don’t be ridiculous.
This is the center of Morgan Worship in the Wonderbucks on Commercial Drive. Note the bottom of a The Province article about who? Morgan! And the brightly colored hand-written FAQ about who? Morgan? This is an excellent example of a feline-centered existence.
Morgan is the 16-year-old cat who drops in for adoration at Wonderbucks every morning, and then swings by the Greek restaurant next door for, one assumes, delicious treats. Morgan’s home is around the corner. She is a neighborhood institution and widely beloved.
Morgan is also one of the dedicated cadre of feline observers who make themselves available to keep one eye turned to what we all get up to on those long days when we vanish from the home and are not available to cater to their every whim. Why aren’t there more? How many businesses take the time to set up an altar like this for their overlords? There should be more, humanity.
The international feline conspiracy will, henceforth, accept the following as valid reasons why your business should not also have a resident cat.
Um… Rock concert levels of noise? That’s about it. Respectful thoughts about feline-hostile environments and your reasons why they shouldn’t just be converted to litterboxes may be considered.
We love hearing about cats in the workplace, and invite you to tell me all your favorite heartwarming stories about same.
Our feline overlords, including:
The late lamented Banana, who will live on as the ship’s cat aboard the sailing vessel Nightjar in my novel DAUGHTER OF NO NATION, where he will be worshipped by Watts, a doctor from Ehrenmord:
And the most fierce BOG of the Toronto Gang of Fur:
Have submitted below the list of TV and film spaceships that, henceforth, will need cats. Make it so, all you apes.
Starship Enterprise (the Kirky Spocky one). The obvious answer here is for Doctor McCoy to be digitally replaced with a feline-American actor.
Starship Enterprise (Picardy version) Spot the cat should take over Deanna Troi’s role. Except, you know, when he can’t be bothered. Or would rather be Guinan. Or perhaps just petted by Guinan. How many of you would like to be petted by Guinan? Too bad, Spot has dibs. Anyway, he should be in every single episode. We do like the one where he scratches the crap out of Riker’s face. (I do not want to know if you would like to scratch the crap out of Riker’s face.)
Enterprise (Bakula edition. Mmm, Bakula. Sorry, got distracted there.) Wanky wanky British spy man with all the angst and whining–was his name Malcolm?–is to be replaced outright with a sexy CGI cat spy. Captain Archer may keep the beagle if T’Pol gets a cat who totes pwns the doggy’s beagle-butt.
Starship Enterprise (the alternate Kirky Spocky one): I’m up for Karl Rove in cat make-up. You?
Moya of Farscape – Ribbons and other chase-me-chase-me chew toys are to be attached to the DRDs, and a small family of young, adorable felines will play with them through all scenes where they appear. This technique could be applied to the scutters of Red Dwarf, too, though of course they have Danny John Jules.
Babylon Five – Were there any cats on B5? It has been too long.
Galaxy Quest – Alan Rickman should have a Maine Coon. They would look so good together.
Buck Rogers in the 25th Century – would anybody be sorry if the dubba dubba Twiki robot were replaced by a fabulous and articulate feline?
Battlestar Galactica (new version) Okay, we have the recurring line about bringing the cat inside, and that’s a start, but more is required. We’re thinking a whole new reimagining whereby the reason for looking for Earth is less “the near-total destruction of humankind!” (because, you know, yawn) and more “because Earth’s where the cats are!” Basically the Twelve Colonies mope themselves into a stupor over their pointless catless existence and then the Cylons come along and say, “Hey, let’s go find us some superior life forms!” From there it’s just hairballs and orgies.
Finally, Serenity of Firefly receives a half-pass on this, as River Tam may well be one of the rare characters who really is part cat as opposed to just being a poseur.