Category Archives: Rocky Williams

Why Do Cats Make Purrfect Pets?

By Rocky Williams

As a cat, I can’t think of anyone more qualified to extol the virtues of my kind. I do, after all, have firsthand knowledge of all the things that make me (and every kitty in the world!) the greatest pet anyone could ever want. Granted, some felines persist in making sure that old stereotype of the independent cat remains alive and well, which tarnishes their own “Purrfect Pet” medal just a bit. Even so, I still believe we win paws down when compared to other, shall we say, less purrfect pets. No need to get specific, I think you all know who I mean…woof!

Size Does Matter

One thing that makes us cats awesome pets is that we are small, which means that even if you live in a teeny tiny apartment, we’ll adapt. We don’t need a yard – we can get all the exercise we need just by shredding your couch! Throw in an ottoman and some catnip toys, and we’ll worship you for life. No wait, that’s what that “other” pet does. Cats worship only one … themselves.

Our small size also means we don’t need to eat mountains of food, which is easy on your budget and your back. You can even spring for the really good stuff – that would be FELIDAE cat food and TidNips treats, naturally– and you won’t keel over from sticker shock at the pet food store.

We’re Low Maintenance

Cats are lean, mean self cleaning machines. We take our bathing duties seriously, so don’t even think about taking over for us unless you want your arms to look like they just went through the wood chipper. Training a cat consists of showing us where you want us to sleep, so we’ll know to avoid that spot at all costs. Hey, leave your sweater on the bed and you’ll always be able to find us when you come home!

The Healing Power of Purr Therapy

The Warden says nothing gets her body back into balance quicker than a contented cat on her lap, purring away. Opinion aside, there have been actual research studies done which have shown that the health benefits of owning a purring pet are real and substantial. Supplement the purr with a little biscuit making (sans claws), and you’ll be healthier and happier than you ever could’ve imagined!

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If Cats Had Thumbs, Would They Conquer the World?

By Rocky Williams, feline guest blogger

Yesterday I was awakened from a catnap by a loud sound. Naturally curious about this cacophony that had so rudely interrupted my peaceful slumber – I went in search of it. I found the Warden sitting at her computer, cackling loud enough to wake the dead. She was watching a YouTube video of a commercial for Cravendale Milk which posed the question, “What if cats had thumbs?” The commercial features a polydactyl feline named Bertram, a social media ‘celebricat’ famous for plotting world domination with the help of his Facebook and Twitter minions. The ad also features the voice of Rocky Horror Picture Show star Tim Curry, who asks “Why do cats stare when you’re pouring milk?

Cats with opposable thumbs are shown bouncing a ball, filing their nails, doing needlepoint and reading a book. “Imagine that. Cats with thumbs. And what if they got together? Gangs of cats with thumbs! Organized crime, with one thing on their mind,” says the voiceover. The cat gang opens the door and stares at the man eating his cereal. Terrified, he grabs his carton of milk to make a run for it.

Yeah, okay…it was really funny, but I still wasn’t amused that the Warden interrupted my beauty sleep. It did, however, make me think about all the things I’d do if I had thumbs. Top of the list, of course, would be to end the rationing of my FELIDAE cat food. Yep. I would get that bag of kibble down from the cupboard straight away. Feeding frenzy for all! The TidNips treats would flow freely, too. But I wouldn’t stop there. I love all food, and if I had thumbs I would raid the fridge and pantry every day. The Warden uses her microwave oven as a bread drawer, to stop me from carbo loading in the dark of night…but if I had thumbs, the bread buffet would be open 24/7.

If I had thumbs, no more ‘indoor life’ for me! Out I would go, as I pleased, to snoopervise the neighborhood and visit that cute ladycat down the block. If I had thumbs, I would watch Animal Planet on the Telly all day long. And in the middle of the night, I’d give the Warden a fright – I’d crank up the volume so she wakes up thinking there’s an introoder in the house. Hee hee! No, tis’ only me, watching Jackson Galaxy whip unruly felines into shape on My Cat From Hell.

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How to Spoil your Cat

I am trying hard to look innocent

By Rocky Williams, Feline Guest Blogger

Let me just say right up front: I am a privileged cat. I know I’m spoiled, and I don’t apologize for that because really, it’s a blessing. The day the Warden took me out of that flea-ridden shack, I didn’t have many hours left. I call that my lucky day – I won the cat lottery, because I came to live with someone who spoils me.

Now, sometimes that word ‘spoil’ is seen as a negative thing, especially when it pertains to children and even at times, dogs and cats. The Warden used to get upset when her mother (not an animal lover!) accused her of spoiling her cats. It stopped bothering her when she realized it was true, but wasn’t something she should be ashamed of. Spoiling your cat is a good thing. I speak from personal experience.

The Warden spoils me by letting me sleep pretty much anywhere I want, even if that’s on her chest and she can barely breathe because I’m such a strapping lad. When I leave my luxurious black fur on her light-colored couch, she doesn’t care. Ditto for whatever she’s wearing. She knows that walking around town covered in cat hair is a badge of honor. She spoils me by stopping whatever she’s doing when I demand my petting time. She believes, and rightly so, that no boring human task could ever be more important than spending quality time with her cat.

The Warden spoils me because when I am naughty, which is often – pretty much every day, all day long – she doesn’t get mad. If I put my paw on her dinner plate hoping to snag some chicken, she just laughs and pushes it away. The day I actually snagged something but unfortunately it was mustard and that promptly got deposited on the couch, she didn’t scold me. Furniture can be cleaned, she says. When I crawl all over her trying to distract her so I can do the grab-and-run with her food, she doesn’t mind that I get cat hair in her mouth or on her plate. It’s edible, right?

One day I swished my big floofy tail in her Caramel Macchiato, and then I flicked the caramel foam all over the carpet. She laughed especially hard that day. The Warden spoils me because she thinks of me as comic relief, a stress buster in kitty form. The Warden knows that being naughty is just my nature, and she loves me in spite of it. Or is that because of it?

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New Year’s Resolutions for Cats

Rocky

By Rocky Williams, Feline Guest Blogger

Lately I have been hearing my hoomin, aka the Warden, talk a lot about something called resolutions. From what I gather, these are things that people resolve to change or improve about themselves in the New Year. Now, being a cat I generally think I am purrfect as is, and need not change a thing. However, just for fun I decided to make some resolutions of my own. Who knows, it might even inspire other cats who feel they need to improve upon purrfection!

According to just about everybody you could ask, the most popular New Year’s Resolution is some version of the “eat right, exercise more” mandate. But that one is just not necessary for me because I already eat great, thanks to the Warden. If there’s one thing she knows well, it’s how to tell which cat food is the good kind, and if she’s sold on FELIDAE that’s all I need to know. However, I suppose I could use a little more exercise to keep my handsome mancat body in tippy top shape. But just a little, mind you. I don’t want to become so muscular that every ladycat in town is meowing at my door for a date. I don’t have the stamina for that!

Speaking of food though, there are umpteen resolutions I could attempt. Such as, I resolve not to wolf down my own portions at lightning speed in order to “help” Mickey and Annabelle finish theirs. This will inevitably free up a lot of the Warden’s time, since she has to stand guard until those two painstakingly slow eaters empty their bowls. Talk about torture!

I could also resolve not to steal food from the Warden’s plate when she’s trying to eat it herself. Generally speaking, the paw is faster than the hand, which gives new meaning to the term “grab-and-go.” I always come away with something, but it’s not always something I want to eat. Case in point: the “mustard incident.” In a kind of slow-motion horror movie, the Warden watched as I mulled over what to do with a paw covered in mustard, until I finally decided to just put it down on the couch. That will teach her to eat in the living room!

I could resolve not to eat the Warden’s bread in the middle of the night, but it’s not really necessary since she started using the microwave oven as a bread drawer. Foiled again, at least until I figure out how to open that thing! I could resolve not to dig in the garbage, but this one is also not necessary since the Warden installed baby-proof latches on the cabinet door where the can is kept. Oh, I know! I will resolve not to scare the Warden by trying to get the cabinet door open, which makes a nice loud bang-bang-bang noise in the middle of the night.

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Of Mice and Cats (an American Classic)

By Rocky Williams

I’m currently serving time at the Fleabag Prison with two other feline felons, so I thought it might be fun to tell you a story from my ‘Verminator’ days. They’re just a memory for me now, because I’m under house arrest for ankle biting, toe nibbling, counter surfing and other unmentionable crimes. Hence, I have nothing but time to tell a little cat-and-mouse tale. Steinbeck, eat your heart out!

Once upon a time, I had a job as Chief Verminator of Rodent Valley, California. It was a wonderful place for felines, but not so much for humans since the mice, rats and gophers outnumbered them by the thousands. Catching a rodent was a daily event for me, but not because I took my job seriously. I mean really…what else did I have to do all day?

So one day I caught a rat and promptly took him inside so the Warden could see what a good job I was doing as Chief Verminator. I hoped she would reward me with some of that yummy FELIDAE kibble I’m crazy for, but when I dropped him at her feet she screamed “Rocky, get that THING out of here!” Her lack of appreciation for my wonderful gift was appalling. I proceeded to play two-paw soccer with my rat, which I’d named Ben, but after awhile I lost interest in this little game and looked away.

Unfortunately, Ben seized the opportunity to make a run for it, and he got away from me! The Warden saw Ben scamper behind the stove. I pretended that I didn’t see anything. Rat? What rat? Hmmm…I didn’t see a rat, did you?  I nonchalantly licked my paws and sauntered away.

The warden, mouth agape, stared at my backside as I ambled out of the room. I think I heard her calling after me. She might have said something like, “Rocky, come back here and get that THING out from behind the stove.” But if she had said that, what did she expect me to do? The space Ben crawled under is one inch at best, and I’m a big lad. I couldn’t fit under there even I’d wanted to go after him, which I didn’t.

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Diary of a Bad Housecat

By Rocky Williams

I would be the first to admit that I’m a bad, bad cat. Apparently when I was made, they were all out of the “good” attributes like self-control, willpower and obedience. All attempts by the Warden to train me have been futile, and I pretty much do what I want, with WHATEVER I want. I just can’t help it. Yeah, that’s my defense and I’m sticking to it.

When I see something I covet, I go after it with no thought to the consequences. Usually, what I want is the Warden’s food. It perplexes her, and she says things like “Rocky, I feed you two square meals a day, plus a handful of those scrumptious TidNips™ treats at bedtime – why do you always act like you’re starving?” Well…allow me to explain.

You see, I absolutely love my FELIDAE cat food, and those TidNips are the tastiest treats I’ve eaten in all my 8 years of cathood. But those things are for CATS, and I want what the Warden is having because it’s for people and thus, it’s forbidden. We all know that when something is forbidden, it becomes infinitely more desirable. It doesn’t matter what the Warden is eating, really; I stop at nothing to get my paws on it.

And that, my friends, is what led to the fateful day the Warden screamed the most awful sentence at me. “Rocky!! I don’t want to EVER see your face again!” she yelled. Oh my. I was in big trouble.

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