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Caturday 7.12.14


Hello and Happy Caturday to all.

Yesterday I was running (in a compulsive attempt to hit my 10,000 Fitbit steps and nothing more) and I saw no fewer than three outdoor pet cats on one street alone and it led me to question why people have outdoor cats at all. Isn’t having an outdoor pet cat basically the equivalent of having an outdoor pet squirrel?

Think about it… They hang around for little more than food. They may or may not get killed by a coyote or a car or deranged teenagers or whatever predators you have prowling around. Sometimes you don’t see them for days. You think they’re yours but really they’re whoring around getting food from everyone on the street. Someone could, at any point, claim it as their pet instead of yours since  it is, after all, eating on everyone’s back porch at this point. It will not come when you call it. When it dies you will just get another one the same color and name it the same thing. At this very moment you have no idea where it is.

Am I describing a cat or a squirrel? No one knows.


I think the whole outdoor cat thing (with the exception of farms and such) is a human’s attempt to not accept the fact that they really want a cat. It’s like, “Oh yeah that’s just the neighborhood cat that I named and just happen to feed twice a day and I take it to the vet and sometimes I let it come in and sleep in my bed but it’s not my pet because why would anyone ever want a cat?”

Outdoor cats are basically the gateway cat. That’s how my cats started so be warned. My first stray Gracie (who is a boy don’t worry about it) came around when I was about 15 (I think?) and my parents hadn’t quite caved on the whole cat idea so she was “indoor/outdoor” which is code for “slowly infiltrating your home until it is mine.”

Gracie would stay outside most of the day and then climb the tree next to my second-story room and scratch on the window to be let in at night. Like straight out of a Boxcar Children story. I spent most of my days in a panic that she would never return though, so when my parents moved to a new home and I went off to college she became a strictly indoor cat and basically controlled their lives until her death.

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So anyway. The moral of that story is: if you have an outdoor cat I hope you are excited about one day having a minimum of three cats that all sleep in your bed because that’s what’s going to happen. God speed.

In other news, my mom sent me a birthday package and (naturally) included something for the cats:


And this week I also received my first marriage proposal.


I said yes.


  1. TaMo TaMo

    Are we almost at the end of that red and white note paper? Please.

  2. I must have that notepad.

    Also, growing up we had outdoor cats. (Outdoor due to allergies). They did come when we called, and at night we locked them up in their outdoor home (retrofitted under our deck, with a gate and all). Mine was named Butterscotch, my brother’s was named Popcorn. (Future foodie warning, or just being kids?!). Butterscotch lived to be 10 years old, and I loved her dearly.
    But now? Yeah, it’s all about the dogs. (Sorry cats). The concept of outdoor cats now just seems cruel to me.

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