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.
A number of people claim to be part cat; a smaller number just obviously are. The former shows a proper sort of respectful adoration, in its way. However, our feline overlords have made it clear we can’t just go around making these claims for ourselves without some input from above.
Speaking of those who sit above, here are Toes and Zap of East Vancouver. Admire and obey!
Henceforth those of us who want to claim kinship with catkind must be approved. The approval process will be entirely arbitrary and possibly whim-driven, but here are a few things that may be taken into consideration when issuing licenses:
How many hours a day does the candidate spend napping?
How many smaller creatures have they killed this week, and who did they give them to?
Nobody expects a human to to lick their own chest hair or other, you know, regions, but overall how well groomed is the candidate?
On an average day if ten people ask the candidate to do things, how many of those things do they opt to do?
How would you describe their singing style: a) timid; b) tuneful; c) unabashed; d) Diva
What happens if you dangle a ribbon just beyond the candidate’s reach at, say, a staff meeting or awards ceremony? Do they just pretend it’s not happening, thereby showing concern for primate social considerations? (Hint: if so? Not a cat.)
Has this individual ever thrown up on the bed, moved over, and gone back to sleep?
As always, you are invited to submit other possible criteria for assessment, along with your arguments for specific individuals. The global feline conspiracy may read, shred, or snooze on these as it pleases.
Lest you think the feline overlords will never cut us any slack, the following human artifacts and creations have been deemed “not in need of change” by Aristotle, Duke of The People’s Republic of Austin.
Youtube - home of more cat video than you can shake a daschund at.
Pinterest – Here’s one especially good catboard.
Lord High Bishop of Cat Worship, Eastern Canada, Peter Watts.
The Cat from Outer Space – This film will be required viewing in all the grade schools. As will the Fantastiks.
Danny John Jules of Red Dwarf
As an aside, the use of by the human jazz community of phrases like ‘hep cat’ and ‘cool cat’ is under investigation. The feline overlords may or may not read your submissions on this issue, but you should feel obliged to provide it all the same.
This is another set of decrees from our feline overlords. I’ve explained why, in the essay about The Wizard of Oz. But first, a picture of Xerxes.
Ahhh. You want to obey, don’t you?
After some consideration, catkind has determined that houses are, basically, okay structures. It’s apparent that lowering the ceilings and obliging humanity to crawl around, for example, would just make it harder for us to serve the needs of our cats in a prompt and cheerful manner. Besides, cats dislike construction noise. And change. So we’re off the hook there.
However, certain standard features of your basic house or apartment will henceforth be regarded as unacceptable barriers to unrestricted feline access to the everything.
So: all doors–front, back, and interior–to be equipped with cat doors or removed entirely. Closet and cupboard doors can remain as is if they’re fun to open and make hilarious thumpy noises in the wee hours.
Every home is to contain at least two of: goldfish tank with goldfish, rodent cage with gerbils, mice, rats or other vermin, bunny hutch with very small bunny, birdcage with birds, reptile tank with small bouncy lizards.
Wild bird feeders are to be installed in every yard, within sight of every window, and to be placed at a height that does not exceed the average feline pounce from the ground or an approved perch.
There should be kibble stations in every room.
Toilets are to be kept, at all times, in a state fit for use as drinking fountains.
All claw-resistant furniture to be replaced. Furnishings that do not contrast with dominant color of cat hair, and thereby accumulate the glory of the household’s primary occupants, are to be replaced. Wall art depicting lesser beings, unless such beings are in a position of respectful supplication to a cat, are to be replaced.
Humans may possess or use a vacuum unless it is either silent or entertaining. Up with Roomba!
Anyone found to possess an object whose obvious purpose is to affect or control feline behavior (squirtgun or spray bottle-type squirty objects, for example) may be subjected to serious clawing or worse. Remember: Ask not whether you can control your cat, for this is entirely preposterous.