Saturday, July 25, 2009

Do You Really Love your Cat?

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At the store, do you pick up the cat food and kitty litter before you pick out anything for yourself?

Did you buy a video tape of fish swimming in an aquarium to entertain your cat?

Do the Christmas cards you send out feature your cat sitting on Santa's lap? Does your cat sign the card?

Do you accept dates only with those who have a cat? If so, do you eventually double-date with the cats to see how they get along?

Do you admit to non-cat owners how many cats you really have?

Do you buy more than 50 pounds of cat litter a month?

Do you climb out of bed over the headboard or footboard, so you won't disturb the sleeping cat?

Do you cook a special turkey for your cat on holidays?

Do you feed your cat tidbits from the table with your fork?

Do you give your cat presents and a stocking at Christmas? Do you spend more for your cat than you do for your spouse?

Do you have more than four opened but rejected cans of cat food in the refrigerator?

Do you have pictures of your cat in your wallet? Do you bring them out when your friends share pictures of their children?

Do you kiss your cat on the lips?

Do you microwave your cat's food? Prepare it from scratch?

Do you put off making the bed until the cat gets up?

Do you scoop out the litter box after each use? Do you wait at the box with the scoop in your hand?

Do you select your friends based on how well your cats like them?

Do you sleep in the same position all night because it annoys your cats when you move?

Do you think it's cute when your cat swings on the drapes or licks the butter?

Do you watch bad TV because the cat is sleeping on the remote?

Does your cat "insist" on a fancy Sunday breakfast consisting of an omelet made from eggs, milk, and salmon, halibut, or trout?

Does your cat eat out of cut crystal stemware because you both watched the same commercial on television?

Does your cat sit at the table (or ON the table) when you eat?

Does your cat sleep on your head? Do you like it?

Does your desire to collect cats intensify during times of stress?

When people call to talk to you on the phone, do you insist that they say a few words to your cat as well?

When someone new comes to your house, do you introduce your cat, by name, to them?

Will you stand at the open door indefinitely in the freezing rain while your cat sniffs the door, deciding whether to go out or come in?

Would you rather spend a night at home with your cat than go out on a bad day?


If you really love your cat, then for sure.. all your answer for the questions above is YES!


Friday, July 24, 2009

Hehe..Emo Little Kitty..

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http://www.emocutez.comhttp://www.emocutez.comhttp://www.emocutez.comhttp://www.emocutez.comhttp://www.emocutez.comhttp://www.emocutez.com

Can you imagine your cat as fat as this???

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Oh My GOD.. This is Just AMAZING
Great..and Soooo CUTE!!!!

This is European Fat Cat..Maybe too
much
lasagna like garfield right?
HeHeHe....

This is Chinese Fat Cat.. is this pic is real?
i just can't believe it
anyway,
he is still
CUTE

Saturday, July 18, 2009

The Homeless (From About.com)

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I just read this story a few moment ago..I just feel that it is an interesting story about a homeless cat..A sad story for sure.. I had copying it and paste it here in, my Cat's Blog.. Hope the sweet Writer didn't mind it...

A story about one out of thousands...

The cat was seven years old, but looked older. His once-glossy golden coat was now the color of dirty straw, matted, oily, and dull. One ear drooped, and he flicked it impatiently as he intently watched the field mouse going about its business in the tall, dry grass.

Truman (for that was his name in years past, when a human had cared enough to name him) crouched low, wiggled his scarred rump imperceptibly, then leapt at his prey. The mouse squeaked and disappeared into a hole in the earth. Truman growled in disgust and turned back to the dusty road that bisected the fields of dry weeds.

As he trudged along, he quickened his pace at the sounds of a motor approaching. He wasn't quick enough though.

"Cat!" a young male voice shouted, as the muscle car veered toward him. A blinding flash of pain shot through Truman's lower half, as he flew through the air, landing several feet away. Liquid spattered his dirty coat as a half-full beer can was lobbed at him. Through pain-filled eyes, Truman watched the car race away, and his thoughts travelled back to the other young man, the one who had pleaded with his father, tears streaming down his face, to let Truman come with them when they moved.

Driven by hunger, Truman dragged himself upright, and limped along the road, intent on making his way back to the food place. The white-hot sun matched the pain in his hind quarters as he doggedly moved onward.

Hours later, he approached a copse of trees thick with underlying bushes. The other cats were already there, waiting patiently: a ragged tortoiseshell herded her two remaining kits into the shelter of a brambly bush; the old gray tom glared balefully at Truman, but let him pass. Two new refugees had appeared, both gray tabby toms - possibly brothers, from the looks of them.

At first glance, the clearing would have appeared empty, to human eyes. Each cat sought out its own hiding place, respecting the personal space of the others. It hadn't always been that way. Strange cats would appear from time-to-time and the self-appointed alpha cat would battle the latest interloper until one or the other ceded, sometimes through death. Truman had uncomfortable memories of his own acceptance into the colony, following a violent engagement with a one-eyed black cat. One-eye had eventually slunk away in defeat, but not before doing considerable damage to Truman's ear, and to his pride.

Today, Truman carefully averted his eyes while cutting a wide berth around the brush where the two tabbies lay. He found an unclaimed spot in the shrubs about fifteen feet away, gave his matted fur a few swipes with his tongue, then crouched and expectantly watched the road

At length, the sound of an approaching car engine growled, then stopped abruptly. Two women alighted from their dusty car, arms full of bags of (food!) paper plates, bowls, and canteens of cool, clean water.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitties," they softly called. "Here Micha...Ran-deee...Momma Kitteee... here's dinner, darlings."

"Oh, we have new ones! Look at those two big tabby guys, Eileen. Did you see Sunny, yet?"

One by one, the cats slunk out of their hiding places and hungrily approached the plates filled with a mixture of dry and wet food. The tortie, whom the women called, "Autumn," daintily nibbled while her kittens fought to nurse her.

Truman observed from a distance, his empty stomach growling, until his hunger won over, and he limped over to a plate of food, bowed by the weight of starvation.

"Oh look -- there's Sunny! He's back!"

"Oh, he's injured. Did you see him limping? We've got to get that big boy to Dr. Evans!"

The cats continued eating while the two women busied themselves with a box hidden away in some shrubbery several yards away. Finally, satisfied with whatever they were doing, they returned to their car and sat inside, sipping coffee from paper cups and talking quietly.

A couple of hours later, Truman awoke with renewed appetite. He dragged himself to the food area and saw that the paper plates had been removed. He thirstily lapped water from the remaining bowl, when his nostrils lifted, picking up a strong, delicious scent of -- fish! The cat ignored the pain in his hip and followed the scent, gimping along on three legs. The odiferous trail led him to the back of a dark copse, where he found anchovies, a dimly remembered treat from his days with the boy. A cracking noise resounded, and Truman found himself -- trapped! He yowled in anger and frustration and threw himself against the walls of the box, until weakend and defeated, he slunk to a corner and crouched.

Soft voices comforted him, as he felt the box moving gently, then heard a door slam.

After an hour or more of jostling and bumping, Truman found himself on a shiny table in a room with soft peach-colored walls. He glared balefully at the man who was gently manuevering his back legs. One of the women held his front legs securely, while scratching between his ears, while she talked to the doctor.

"I don't know, Susie. This leg will have to be pinned, and there are no guarantees. It might be kinder to just euthanize this one. He's probably too old to be adopted and with a gimpy leg, he won't have much of a chance to defend himself out there."

"Pin the leg, Doc. There's something special about this little guy. I'm going to keep him for myself. I have a feeling about him."

As the veterinarian busied himself with a needle, Truman was startled to recognize the sound of his own purring, a long-forgotten sensation.

Truman was going home.


Friday, July 17, 2009

.....I love Them.....

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I love the way they walk
I love the way they play
I love the way they sleep
I love the way they stare at me
I love the way they calling me
I love the way they recognize me
I love the way they snores around my arm
I love their smell
I love their sound
I love the way they clean their fur
simply...
I love the way they are..
I LOVE everything about CATS

Truly, Madly, Deeply..
ME.. Cat's LOVER

...GarField Time...

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Thursday, July 16, 2009

Today's Beautiful Quote

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Walking along a beach, a mother saw her daughter picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea. She asked the girl why she was doing this. the girl explained that the starfish would die if left till the morning. The mother asked "what difference will your efforts make when the are thousand of starfish on the beach" The girl stopped and look at the starfish she was holding and said, " It will make a difference to this One".

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

lets Laugh with this Pic.. Hehe

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Just Get This Cute pic...

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so cute..
so adorable
so sweet
so funny...
and most importantly...
it can make u smile..
bring happiness to ur day...

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