LAX Cat Fingerprinting: A Simple Hoax or Sign of the Times?

Cat airline travel, formerly a feline right of passage, may soon go the way of the Hindenberg, if what the lady from Southwest says is true.

In a recent phone conversation with my partner Hank, the Southwest lady said the airlines are “straying away” from companion animal travel on their passenger planes.  I swear, that’s what she said and that’s the words she used. 

This news comes as a major shock to me.  It just can’t be true.  How are Brody and Herman ever going to see Niagara Falls, the Big Apple, and the remnants of the Berlin Wall if they can’t fly?

Anyway, maybe it’s not true, because I just read another story about how incredibly misinformed some airline employees are about cats and travel.  In fact, as it turns, one new worker was actually telling folks they would have to get their cat fingerprinted if it traveled through Los Angeles International Airport.  Read about it here.

 Well, I obviously need to get to the bottom of this one.  How about you, do you find that the airlines are “straying away” from pet travel, or has your little kitten been wracking up the free flyer miles no problem visiting a hot little Persian they met in Miami?  

I’d love to hear what the real story is for jet-setting kitties, and the people who pack for them.

Sleeping with The Panther

Since last winter, Herman Panther has taken to sleeping in Hank’s arms like a lover.  Now, I don’t want you to think that I mind, because I don’t mind at all.  Seeing as how I tend to be mistaken in my sleep for a mild cyclone, I’m perfectly happy letting two of my boys have at the comfort of each other’s arms. That way I’m free to twist the sheets into rope and send the blankets into 14 directions and generally get the sleep that I need unencumbered. 

Unfortunately, my spot on the door-side of the bed puts me directly in the path of the sleek but leaden-weighted Herman Panther, a place that seems predetermined to be his springboard on and off the bed. 

Imagine me, deep in sleep, in my stormy lullaby-land, unconscious, unknowing, unable to anticipate my 16-pound bowling ball on claws bounding off my belly like it’s the trampoline launch at the cat gymnast olympics.  Or equally astonishing, awakening to the scrabbling ascent over my protruding hip at he claws his way up, over, and into the valley between me and Hank.

Let’s just say I could do without these sudden awakenings. But there is little that can be done, short of building a fence on my side of the bed, which is an idea I just now had that might work.  But short of that, his only other route is to cut across my pillow, painfully yanking my hair with each step. Or sometimes, he’s cut across my face, and I awaken with scratched cheeks.  Yes, I don’t mind Panther sleeping with Hank, it’s just his getting in and out of bed that causes issues.

However, once he makes it to his target, let’s call it ”warm-body Hank,” a bit of magic occurs that kind of changes everything.  This is how it works:  Herman mills around in the vicinity of Hank’s neck looking especially clueless and waiting for “it” to happen.  Then, suddenly, he’s drawn in under the covers right in the perfect spot next to warm-body Hank.  It happens so fast, it’s amazing!  It would take the cat about a year to find that spot himself, believe me.

Now Herman’s sleeping head rests on Hank’s big manly bicep, and Hank’s other arm gently embraces the happy black cat.   Through the night they sleep thus, man and cat and other cat (at feet), and woman slash cyclone slash trampoline.  Now, what was it I was complaining about?

Teaching the Cat to Meow

The latest news here is that I’ve started to give my cat Herman Panther meowing lessons.  I realize that because his older “brother” Brody rarely utters a normal meow, Herman never learned how to properly talk Cat. Instead, he learned to squawk from the crows who sit on the phone line outside our second-story window. With them he shares a glossy-black exterior, a mucho-mysterioso stare, and unfortunately an extensive crowing vocabulary.

After years of listening to him speak his own brand of squawk-talk, a tongue that impresses demand even at a whisper, I realized that providing Herman with a more melodic meow model, a sweeter sound to copy, would be smart.  Unfortunately, Herman seems to have moved on from his “picking up noises” stage in life.  What with the cat pushing a whole ten years, it’s another case of horrible timing on my part.

I’m just getting started, though, and I have a plan: I plan to catch him when he’s half asleep and plant the seeds of cat song into his fertile serenader’s spirit by singing meows to him.  I will be relentless, and one day, if I’m lucky I will be rewarded with those two familiar feline syllables.  

Barring that, I might also be satisfied with at least a more melodious squawk.

Cats in the Doghouse: Crafty Souls Build Pads for Pets

Here’s a book that bears a look, and even a purchase if you happen to be one of those inscrutable do-it-yourselfers.  As for me, building a House of Catitude in all but a virtual sense is well beyond my crafting capacity, but I say, “power (tools) to you” if you find yourself creating, for example, an attractive Zen Cat Bed.

(Unfortunately, my cats Brody and Herman would tear the bejesus out of this framed-sisal station, its contemplative stone garden and living wheat grasses – first assassinating the greens and then spreading soil and sisal to my living room’s four winds.)

But just because Herman and Brody would destroy the Zen Cat Bed in no time doesn’t preclude some other cats from getting their zen on, doing the cat lotus posture there and such. Probably, the Zen Cat Bed just needs minor tweaking to be a place to chill and not where to lose one’s cat mind in such a destructive fashion.

But believe me, the last thing I want is to sound overly critical of this delightful book of projects.  There truly are some attractive ideas in Pads for Pets: Fabulous Projects for your Furry, Feathered, and ‘Phibious Friends (Chronicle Books, 2003), from simple stuff to the architecturally complex. Although I must point out, clearly the emphasis in this field has been on dogs and doghouses, and you can guess how we feel about that here at Self Help for Cats. (Hint – we aren’t purring.)

As the dog section is by far the most developed in the book, the dyed in the wool cat DIYer may need to borrow from the canine or goldfish sections to really find a project they can sink their glue gun into.  For example, I would actually even consider making my cats an Orphan Sock Bed – sort of a rag rug made of stuffed single socks, presumably the match of lost socks. 

Wouldn’t it feel great to finally rid oneself of the uselessness of those odd single socks for such a cool sock bed?! That is, until one of the matching socks turned up.  I’d have to make a whole other sock bed then, just to set things straight.  It could get ugly actually, and even snowball what with the likelihood of further bed-sock matches later developing. So you understand why it’s better if I never got started down that path, right?

Even if I happen to be a complete crafting catastrophe, that certainly doesn’t mean Pads for Pets doesn’t have some ideas you’ll really dig.  There’s a whole section about throwing a dog party, what with hats, a cake, party games, etc., and I don’t see why you can’t adopt that right over to cats, you know?  Why not, I ask?  Why the heck not?

(I’ll tell you why not, because probably a room full of cats made angry by their elasticized party hats with pieces of cake spread all about on plates – well, that just doesn’t sound like a good situation.)

Clearly, the creative nutkins behind this utterly original book have their hearts totally in the right place, in their left ribcage that is, and beating strong for a good cause.  Book sales help PAWS (Pets Are Wonderful Support), an organization all about animals helping people in their time of need.  And what’s the point of helping yourself if you can’t, in the end, turn around and help someone else?  Remember that, kitties! 

***

Pads for Pets is by Elizabeth Quinn with Pets Are Wonderful Support (P.A.W.S.).  Photographs by Frankie Frankeny.

Spin, Spin Lollipops: Decorate to Stimulate

Herman and his mobile share a moment of peace.

I’ve said it before: Your house may be the place you land your sorry butt at the end of the day — but it’s your cat’s whole entire world.  That’s why you have redecorate everything with the cats’ needs in mind.

To that end, I recently purchases an Ikea mobile (second-hand for $2) that looks like giant red lollipops floating upside down in space and proceeded to attach it to the hook already present in the ceiling just above our two six-foot cat towers. The whole idea here was to have a little cat-interactive art to swat at. 

The Mobile Glamoros:

(Pronounced Glam Morose - Ikea’s tribute to goth?)

After the cats’ initial “we’re just going to ignore that thing” attitude wore off, well, let’s just say the lollypop mobile survived its inaugural battle last night.  I myself slept through the skirmish, but fortunately Hank left me a full report, in verse, which it satisfies me heartily to share with you here:

Spin, Spin Lollipops, a Poem by Hank.

    DARK, DARK.

Race, Race, Race!

     to the tower, to the top, to the towering tower top!

(thunder) (thunder)

Rub Rub.

Panther head on tower top.  Rub, Rub, Rub.

dark, dark,

spin, spin,

Lollipops, Red Lollipops go spin, spin.

Dark, Dark.

Panther.

thwock!  Spin, Spin     other direction.  Bap!

twing, bonk. Dark, Dark. Lollipops spin.

     Stand, stand.  Survey all, hit Lollipops with tail,

and descend.

(Thanks to Hank for allowing me to share his poem here on Self Help for Cats, where cats and creativity meet for expresso.)

Introducing Herman Panther

This is an early shot of Herman Panther that captures not only his incredible bloodthirst, but also shows that his fur shines blue just like in the comic strips. Don’t let his apparent adorableness fool you, Herman is a no-nonsense drill sergeant of a cat who demands a lot of attention to keep himself in top form.

Although he will not hunt for your toes while you sleep, like his brother-in-arms Brody, Herman has been known to bop his humans on the face when necessary to keep them in line. It’s okay, really, the global writing clientele completely understand when the writer shows up with four tiny fresh claw marks on her cheek bone. Someone has to save Bad Apple from herself every now and again, and Herman P is nothing if not up to the job!

Meet the Cats behind Self Help for Cats

Having laid a foundation for the Self Help for Cats paradigm, it’s time to introduce you to the stars of the show: Brody and Herman Panther. These are the scoundrels shown hard at work/sleep in the above banner photo. Notice how they are on top of their paperwork and reading. Without these two, Self Help for Cats would be nothing at all.

The talented duo have already been featured in several newspaper articles for their incredible contributions to me, their collaborator, medium, archivist and main patron.

In the Self Help for Cats book, you will read about how Brody’s Maine Coon Cat ancestors shaped their own destiny, with romantic stories about going half-wild in New England, later kicking butt at the first American cat shows, and, later still, losing out at the same shows to prissy, “precious” breeds. The Main Coon didn’t let the public’s finicky attitude for felines get him down, no: He boarded a train to California to sire, a few generations removed, the brilliant nut-cat I found one day at the San Francisco SPCA.

It’s just part of the story behind the Self Help for Cats movement, one piece of the puzzle that adds up to the fact that cats and people are on a collision course with destiny. We sit on the verge of the lip of a whole new future, a new age in which cats and people collaborate on levels that right now we can hardly even begin to imagine.

I know this seems unfathomable to you, but trust me, with the steps and exercises in the Self Help for Cats book, redefining your felines’ future is going to be simple as pie.