Under The Paw

My Cat Is A Dick

2012-01-20T06:52:00.000-08:00

Frankly, I'm surprised this website took so long to exist.

Best Cat-Related Screenshot Of The Month

2012-01-11T08:09:00.000-08:00

Talk To The Tail is out in paperback today!

2012-01-05T05:30:00.001-08:00

Have you ordered YOUR copy yet?

Some nice things people have said about the book:

"If you think this very funny book is just about cats, you will be joyfully mistaken. Talk to the Tail also magnificently covers everything from depressed tigers to judgmental horses to mischievous alter ego spaniels to Jon Bon Jovi. I, myself, am allergic to cats, but with Tom's realistic and descriptive powers, I'm definitely not allergic to this book." - Rich Fulcher

"Even a confirmed and partisan dog person such as myself cannot fail to be charmed by Tom Cox's gently seductive prose and his quirky tales of singular feline behaviour. A delight." - Stuart Maconie

"If you've ever been owned by a cat, you'll love this. Books about animals can be mawkish, but this one is often hilarious, occasionally sad, and full of the strangeness of sharing your life with a loved pet." -Woman's Weekly

"Warm, wryly witty, hilariously observed and more often than not, genuinely laugh-out-loud funny." -Easy Living

"A book with a sting in the tail that may give pause to even the most cynical petaphobe." - Mail On Sunday

Read my previous book, Under The Paw....

Cat Knocks Other Cat Down A Loft Ladder

2011-12-23T08:30:00.000-08:00

Cat-Related Thought Of The Day, 18.12.2011

2011-12-17T06:11:00.000-08:00

If cats could speak, they'd probably do so in a low voice, not quite intelligible, but loud enough for you to know they'd insulted you.

The Ten Best Cat Clips Of 2011

2011-12-16T11:25:00.001-08:00

10. CAT AND DOLPHIN MAKE FRIENDS

9. CATVERTISING

8. THRILLER CAT

7. CAT GETS CAUGHT BARKING LIKE A DOG

6. CAT RUINS PHILOSOPHY MONOLOGUE

5. CAT MAKES HUMAN OPEN TUPPERWARE

4. A CAT AND AN OWL SOD ABOUT

3. CAT BEATS UP CAT BALLOON

2. CAT STUFFS OTHER CAT IN BOX WHILE WEIRD MINI LION LOOKS ON

1. CATS TRY TO UNDERSTAND TREADMILL

Christopher Hitchens (RIP) On The Difference Between Dogs And Cats

2011-12-16T04:52:00.000-08:00

“Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realise that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.”

Twenty Cats Hating Christmas

2011-12-13T00:48:00.000-08:00

Number 16 and 19 are especially great...

Guest Cat Of The Month For November: Biscuit, REAL LIFE Neighbour Of The Under The Paw Cats

2011-11-28T01:59:00.000-08:00

Name
Miss Ginger Biscuit

Nicknames
Madam Sausage, Porkalina, Miss Pook, Alter Ego, the occasional appearance of Garibaldi Biscuit, a suspiciously good natured cat who appears and then disappears in the blink of an eye.

Theme Tune
Fat bottomed Girls

Age
At least 12

Owners
Deborah and David.

Catchphrase
"Tummy action! Ooh Juicy!"

Favourite Habits
Nipping ankles, eating, protest pooing, eating, emergency biscuit hoarding, eating, failing to climb trees, eating, lying down, ruining clothing, eating, ruining furniture, banging the door until the servants get up to feed me at 5 in the morning.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
An episode of Autumn Watch, following by a bit of piping (lying on the floor under which the central heating pipes run) to the tune of “Piping it, we’re piping it”. Licking the parmesan cheese left on plates when the servants aren’t looking, lifted into the sink for a drink from the dripping tap, and then hoisted onto the bed for snoozing.

Favourite food
Parmesan cheese, tuna (but it has to be in spring water), biscuit (obviously) and a tiny bit of cream to finish.

Defining moment of your life
Recovering from cat flu having been fed beef tea by a pipette in a steam filled room by my Mum – after which I became a dysfunctional prima donna.

Any enemies?
All other cats...in the world

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines what would it be?
Being able to communicate better with the idiots that look after us.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
I am the centre of the universe, and you are all here to serve me. I do not understand the concept of celebrity.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
Billy Bear aka The Bear. So I can sit on him.

Brief biography
Discovered in a Norwich garden, this very poorly kitten beat the cat flu odds and moved in with the sickeningly perfect Sefton T. Cat (sadly no longer with us) and has continued to grow for the next 12 years into the thing of rotund splendour we know and love today. Continues to terrorise Billy Bear, even though he only wants love.

Watch Biscuit in action here, here, here and here.

A Guide To The Many Tail Positions Of My Most Expressive Cat

2011-11-26T08:34:00.001-08:00

Excerpted from Under The Paw.
Read the sequel, Talk To The Tail.

Synchronized Yawning

2011-11-25T09:35:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I can get my cats to yawn in time with one another. That's totally normal, right?

Audition Cat

2011-11-24T11:08:00.001-08:00

A kitten in lineup of black cats waits for its audition for the movie Tales of Terror in Hollywood, 1961.

"BENTON!" Naughty Dog Chases Deer In Richmond Park

2011-11-22T02:13:00.000-08:00

Snoring Dormouse

2011-11-22T01:58:00.001-08:00

How Long My Cats' Tails Are

2011-11-21T09:50:00.000-08:00

It appears that while I was away in Devon over the weekend, my nextdoor neighbours, Deborah and David, who were very kindly feeding my cats for me, decided to measure their tails, and see how they shape up next to the tail of their cat, Biscuit. They then proceeded to write the results on my kitchen blackboard*.

* For regular Under The Paw readers: Billy is the Bear's "other" name.

Read Under The Paw.
Read the sequel, Talk To The Tail.

Catvertising: The Future Of The Internet?

2011-11-18T03:47:00.000-08:00

Could really do with getting these guys on the case for the publication of this.

Almost Certainly The Best Cat-Related Road Signs I Will Walk Past This Year

2011-11-15T08:11:00.001-08:00

There's Something Just A Bit Too Ann Summers About The Cat Collar Section In Pets At Home Right Now

2011-11-11T08:41:00.001-08:00

Time Machine

2011-11-10T09:37:00.000-08:00

I always have trouble deciding which point in history I'd go back to if I had a time machine. It's so difficult, as there are so many options. Like right now, for example, it's such a hard choice between California in 1970, the Court of Charles II in 1660, or the moment about five minutes ago, just before my cat The Bear spattered my clean bedcovers with a big shitload of puke.

The Kitten Covers

2011-11-08T06:19:00.001-08:00

A very good blog featuring classic album covers, redone, with kittens.

The Difference Between An Encounter Between Two Dogs And An Encounter Between Two Cats

2011-11-07T10:48:00.001-08:00

The difference between an encounter between two dogs and an encounter between two cats can be compared to the difference between watching a pair of boozed-up football hooligans greeting each other on the street and watching two college professors - one of whom has recently slept with the other's wife and given his book a scathing review in an academic journal - size each other up over the creme de menthe at a dinner party.

Read Under The Paw.
Read the sequel, Talk To The Tail.

Probably The First Photo Ever Taken Of Me With A Cat

2011-10-31T06:37:00.001-07:00

Read about me and Felix in Under The Paw.
Read the sequel, Talk To The Tail.

For Black Cat Awareness Day: Some Pictures Of The Bear

2011-10-27T04:51:00.000-07:00

The Bear, the most intellectual character featured in my books Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail, was originally the favourite cat of my ex's ex. Our relationship had its teething troubles, but we're still here, together. He is sixteen and a half now. I am sure that, in that time, he has used up far more than nine lives. He's moved house on umpteen occasions, lost a couple of bits of his ear, gone missing for over a month, got inexplicably stranded on the opposite side of a wide river, been punched into a wall by a tiny grey kitten, and, despite his gentlemanly advances, still can't seem to get his Last Of The Summer Wine romance off the ground with the aging ginger lady cat who lives nextdoor, Biscuit. He is a little wobbly around the haunches, but is in the largely terrific health, and by all appearances - despite being picked and sworn at by his gobby housemate Shipley every so often - happier than he's ever been.

I've known and lived with a lot of black cats over the years, but I don't think I've ever met one who summed up their magic and mystery as much as The Bear. Today is Black Cats Awareness Day - a celebration, instigated by Cats Protection, of black cats, who are all too often overlooked by prospective owners visiting rescue centres - so to mark it I thought I'd post a few of my favourite photos of my most spiritually noir of black cats....

Man Gets Hair Groomed By A Kitten

2011-10-24T12:19:00.001-07:00

Cat Tries To Play Basketball

2011-10-21T00:26:00.001-07:00

Ode To A Slightly Bonkers Cat

2011-10-19T02:37:00.000-07:00

An uncharacteristic excursion into verse in tribute to Daisy Cox - aka The Slink (1991-2007): an excerpt from Under The Paw

Goodbye The Slink
My Friend
I Never Felt I Really Got To Know You
But I've been places you've been
A couple of Nottinghamshire's more picturesque villages, for example
One of which where car burning
Seemed to be a local sport
And that coal shed at my mum and dad's house where you used to hide from Monty
When he was feeling particularly feisty
You sort of perked up in your later years
Particularly when you went deaf
And could no longer hear my dad's heavy feet
Or his shouts of things like
"JO! WHERE'S THE YOGHURT!"
"THAT CAT'S CRAPPED UNDER THE PRINTER"
And "I BLOOMIN' HATE ALAN TITCHMARSH!"
That must have been nice for you
And it proves that, like Tom Petty says
Even The Losers Get Lucky Sometimes
Not that you knew who Tom Petty was
And even if you had
You probably would have been scared of the beard
That he has sported in more recent years
Almost as scared as you were when I took you and Monty for a walk
It was a sunny day
In the time before I'd really noticed that you looked a little like Hitler
And before the website catsthatlooklikehitler.com
Which proved that, in the grand scheme of things, you didn't look that much like him after all
You'd been carrying that feather duster around in your mouth
The one that you must have thought was the world's most docile cockatiel
You seemed in a good mood
And I thought it couldn't hurt
A stroll along the lane
Through DH Lawrence country
With two furry pals
All was going well
For about two hundred yards
Until you saw that Norfolk terrier
And decided for some Slinklike reason
To run straight at it
The little fella didn't know what had hit it
But then not many of us ever did

The Nature Of Dogs VS The Nature Of Cats Summed Up In One Great Cartoon

2011-10-18T07:41:00.000-07:00

Guest Cat Of The Month For October: Nancy

2011-10-16T12:49:00.000-07:00

Name
Nancy.

Nicknames
I have a few of my own: ‘The Ebony Warrior’; ‘The Feline Pimpernel’; ‘She Who is Fleet of Foot and Nimble of Mind’. However my owners tend to call me ‘Mowchie-Moo’. If you want to know why, you’ll have to ask them.

Age
2

Owners
Big: Melissa and Phil. Little: Suse and Louis. Honorary: anyone who lives within a 5 mile radius of my house. I don’t believe in monogamy when it comes to feline/human relations.

Catchphrase
Taxi for Nancy!

Favourite Habits
Following people home, either on foot or by jumping into their cars. Visiting local pubs / shops / schools. Getting stranded at aforesaid places and needing to be collected by my owners.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
It would start with an early nap, followed by dinner: preferably prawns in melted butter, but a pouch of chunks in jelly is acceptable. Then out through the cat flap to find some friendly humans on the street, who I will follow to one of my three local pubs. Here I will meet and greet staff and regulars, and pop into the kitchen for a few titbits. If it’s cold out, I’ll settle down for a nap in front of the fire. At closing time I’ll pick a customer to follow home, spend the night in their house, and wait for my owners to collect me in the morning and take me home for breakfast.

Favourite food
Prawns, curry, or anything served in my local pubs (except for Pork Scratchings – I nearly cracked a tooth on one once).

Defining moment of your life
Probably the first time I appeared in the local newspaper, when I was about five months old. A star was born.

Any enemies?
A ginger tom who lives a few streets away. I won’t dignify him with a name. Let’s just say he’s got a lot to learn about how to treat a lady.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines what would it be?
I’d invent a road-crossing system for feline pedestrians, like a pelican crossing but with the button at cat height. I would have them installed at 100 yard intervals along every road in the country.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
Someone once described me as the feline equivalent of Madonna: sassy, ambitious, talented, and opinionated. I prefer to think of Madonna as the human equivalent of me.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
Without a doubt, Bootsy. She sounds like my kind of cat. We may both be petite and deceptively cute-looking, but together we could take over the world. If she’s interested, tell her to call me.

Brief biography
I live in Harpenden, Hertfordshire, and became a local celebrity as a kitten, due to my penchant for jumping into strangers’ cars. Contrary to expectations, I never grew out of my fearlessly friendly disposition, and am now feted not only in Harpenden, but by my growing army of Facebook and Twitter followers. My autobiography Sex And The Kitty: A Celebrity Meowmoir is out now.

Kitten Tries To Give Up Smoking But Decides It's Too Difficult

2011-10-15T03:25:00.000-07:00

Blind Kitten Vs Hairdryer

2011-10-14T02:57:00.001-07:00

Attack Of The Killer... Apples

2011-10-11T11:46:00.000-07:00

World's Longest Cat

2011-09-20T15:47:00.001-07:00

Possibly The Smuggest Ralph Has Ever Looked After Catching A Mouse

2011-09-19T08:04:00.000-07:00

The Internal Monologue Of Cats

2011-09-11T02:04:00.000-07:00

"This is f**ing great. I hate it." - the internal monologue of cats, most of the time

OCD Cat

2011-09-06T07:24:00.001-07:00

Guest Cat Of The Month For September: Kozy

2011-09-05T05:01:00.000-07:00

Name
Kozy

Age
8

Nicknames
Koze, Kozepops, Kozemeister, The Captain, Whiskers McMiaowington, Fluffpants, Fatpants, Poopface, Chewy Cheeks.

Owners
Dawn & Iain

Catchphrase?
“Whaaaaat??”

Favourite Habits?
Stroking Iain’s ‘face carpet’ with my claws. Brushing Dawn’s hair with my claws (between hours of 3-5am). Walking in a wobbily fashion along the headboard of the bed (between hours of 5-7am), Pigeon Patrol (always on call). Sleeping. Striking a pose. Snoring. Sleeping (so deeply that people poke me to make sure I’m alive. Annoying.). Licking paperbacks (doesn’t everyone?)

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
Telling Dawn and Iain about my day, loudly and at great length. After dinner I like to “work the room” (aka jumping on a seat as soon as the occupant stands up even if it’s just for a millisecond, or staring at them so menacingly that they feel too uncomfortable to remain seated.) Naturally my tastes lean towards theatre but I make do with reality police shows ‘Cats with Cameras’ and ‘Traffic Cats’ and very much enjoy an episode of ‘Midsomer Murders’.

Favourite Food?
Tuna. Whiskas’ Temptations. Tuna. Dreamies (treats). Tuna.

Defining moment of your life?
I came from humble beginnings in a less than salubrious Edinburgh suburb, and ended up in a ‘rescue facility’. I spent my time inside working out, and honing my acting and “nuggin” skills to perfection, eventually the gullible fools (Dawn & Iain) fell for it. For six years I have domineered their lives and things are ticking along nicely (apart from a recent ill-judged attempt at teaching me to ‘high-five’. Imbeciles.)

Any Enemies?
Ironing boards. Bin bags. Tinfoil. Imbeciles. Pigeons.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
Create more roles for cats in popular TV dramas. Head-butt Duncan Bannatyne until he invested in my patented 24hour non-stop Whiskas’ Temptations dispenser.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
I think, for a meeting of great minds, it would have to be The Bear. I would challenge him to a quizzical stare-off. But, hmm, Ralph and his sideburns have a certain debonair charm…which I find very pleasing.

Biography.
I am a handsome black & white cat, with a strong, much copied look (I’m talking to you Felix). I’ll gloss over the early years, during which my talents and obvious good looks went unnoticed. I’ve lived with Dawn & Iain in Edinburgh for 6 years and they cater to my needs adequately, although there could always be more tuna on the menu. Although I don’t seek to be centre of attention, there have been a few ‘incidents’... Once the flat flooded and I was paddling paw deep in water before anyone came home to save me. Once the ceiling collapsed and Iain had to dig through the rubble with his bare hands to find me. I was obviously under the bed. He is a fool. Once I went under the floorboards and pretended I was stuck. Iain ripped up half the floor to get me out. He is a fool. And yes, I do all my own stunts.

Cat Vs Balloon Cat

2011-09-03T02:04:00.001-07:00

Cat Stuffs Another Cat Into A Box (Whilst Actual Miniature Lion Watches)

2011-09-01T04:47:00.000-07:00

EMBED-Bully Cat Stuffs Cat In Box - Watch more free videos

The Cat Scan

2011-08-19T04:41:00.000-07:00

Got a cat? Got a scanner? Why not scan the cat, and send it to The Cat Scan?

Man With A Cat For A Beard

2011-08-03T12:36:00.001-07:00

The Hunchcat Of Notre Dame

2011-08-03T03:54:00.001-07:00

Me And The Bear (And Pablo's Foot)

2011-07-29T05:09:00.000-07:00

Due to an administrative error, this was posted here. That aside, cuteboyswithcats is a very good blog.

DJing Kittens

2011-07-21T04:47:00.001-07:00

Maru: The Happiest Cat Of All-Time?

2011-07-19T11:54:00.000-07:00

How To Deactivate A Cat

2011-07-12T12:22:00.001-07:00

Another Bravura Performance From Maru The Box Cat

2011-07-04T23:50:00.000-07:00

Guest Cat Of The Month For July: Jem

2011-06-30T01:02:00.001-07:00

Name
Jem

Nicknames
Coutros Coutros Ghali, Princess Di, Little @$%!£$

Age
3

Owner
Cat. Confusing, isn’t it?

Catchphrase?
I like to go for a basic ‘Maow’ at ever-increasing volumes, accompanied by the all-important Princess Diana sad eyes.

Favourite habits?
Darting between legs into rooms I’m not allowed in, writhing around on the kitchen floor, getting people to fall madly in love with me.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
I find that an evening isn’t complete without head-butting Cat’s arm to make her spill scalding tea on her lap. If I ever tire of that, I will truly be tired of life.

Favourite food?
Cupcakes, preferably toffee and pecan. I’ve never actually eaten one of these tasty morsels, but that’s not for want of trying. Ooh and I do like a nice bit of parma ham once in a while.

Defining moment of your life?
The epic car journey from London to Edinburgh last year. Imagine, if you will, Frodo’s quest in Lord of the Rings. But with fewer elves and wizards and silliness.

Any enemies?
Heavens, no! But I have, however, noticed a couple of books lying around the house: The Perfect Puppy and Before & After Getting Your Puppy. Surely this must be some kind of sick joke? I’ll get back to you in a couple of weeks and let you know.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
In any civilized world, all floors should be carpeted. There’s nothing more demeaning than cornering like a bad cartoon when chasing my sister from one room to another.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
Princess Diana, God rest her soul. But I suppose I’ll have to settle for that Kate Middleton. Her hair is almost as glossy as mine. We could swap grooming tips.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
Janet, dammit. He was a prince among cats. AND SO VERY HANDSOME!

Biography
My sister and I arrived in the world and were swiftly abandoned on a shop roof. Sadly I can’t remember which shop, but I like to think it was Selfridges. If anyone tells you it was a mobile phone kiosk next door to Chicken Cottage, they are LYING.
Luckily the lovely people at Celia Hammond came to our rescue and took us to a magical place called Lewisham. Where we waited. And waited. And waited some more. For some reason all the other cats were picked before us. Scout blamed me, of course, but it’s not my fault I’m missing half a leg, is it?!
After three long months Cat came along, I pulled the old Princess Diana eyes trick and the rest, as they say, is history. Some other things have happened since then, but you’ll have to wait for the impending New York Times bestselling official biography to find out the juicy details.

For more info on Jem's human's work, go to www.catclarke.com

I Think I Can Safely Say This Is The Scariest Photo I've Taken Of One Of My Cats This Year

2011-06-26T12:45:00.001-07:00

Cat Gets Caught Barking Like A Dog

2011-06-25T01:24:00.001-07:00

From Narcissism To Mindless Violence And Back: A Photo Sequence, Starring Ralph And Shipley

2011-06-14T00:16:00.001-07:00

Guest Cat Of The Month For June: Liam

2011-06-05T06:31:00.000-07:00

Name
Liam

Nicknames
Hahm

Age
An august nine years

Owners
One Clyn. Graduate, scribbler, incapable of disciplining me.

Catchphrase?
I recently unleashed the full force of my ''MRAK'' bark. The reaction from the humans and next door's idiot dog made all those hours of practice totally worth it.

Favourite habits?
During a mouse infestation I realised that catching a rodent brought me extravagant praise. Now every so often I'll test the water by bringing a toy mouse over to a human, dropping it at their feet, and looking up expectantly.
Sometimes I'll deign to notice the fluffy new toy someone's bought for me and spend up to three minutes throwing it around, carrying it over to my food bowl and giving it a quiff by virtue of my vigorous washing. Then I'll bat it somewhere inaccessible and strut away. I am a complex being.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
First of all, I stare pointedly at the empty fireplace until one of the humans sets a fire. Then I'll stop abruptly in the midst of washing and stare fixedly at a spot on the wall indistinguishable from any other patch of wall in the room. If someone's reading a newspaper, I will slink over and pounce on their hand before they finish turning the page. If someone is on a laptop, I will stand on it and unleash my thoughts onto the interwebs. If someone is sitting where I wsh to sit, I will call on the powers of Thundera to concentrate all of my weight onto one small paw, and press it on their leg. In the frozen North, we make our own entertainment.

Favourite food?
Well, Iams is a reliable favourite, but you don't get to my age without taking care of yourself. I supplement my diet with green beans, peas, sweetcorn, expensive ice-cream, and cheese and onion crisps. Only the flavouring, mind you. I leave the soggy, misshapen former-crisp on the rug for the humans to deal with. Often Clyn will forget and stand on it. I live for these moments.

Defining moment of your life?
I was given a fluffy toy hedgehog to cuddle up to at night in case I missed my brother. Some time after this - far too soon, damn you - I made my first big trip to the vet to ensure I remained in a state of perpetual kittenhood. As the vet reached into the cat carrier, he grasped something small and furry. Yes, gentle reader, I had pushed my toy hedgehog towards him. Sadly, he was not fooled a second time.

Any enemies?
The gerbil used to taunt me by kicking his food over me while I slept, or sticking his tail out of his cage and wiggling his bottom in my direction, like a Frenchman. When he was allowed out to run around in his sphere the little pig would make a beeline for me, but I outlived him. And so perish all my enemies. Except that tomcat from the farm from down the road. Damn creature took a bit of my ear, what what. I soon sent him packing.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
Catflaps on every door. Humans are notoriously thick and require everything to be pointed out to them. It's not like there's much going on at 3am anyway, so I fail to grasp why they can't open the doors on my first request.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
Christopher Walken. The man has a certain feline grace. He is my spirit animal. Oh, or Morrissey. I heard Q magazine once asked him why he'd been away for so long, and he replied 'I have a very demanding cat.'

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
RALPH. RALPH RALPH RALPH.

Biography
I was born under a bad sign, left out in the cold. I'm a lonely m- wait, that's not it. Supposed runt of the litter, I proved myself proficient at climbing curtains at a very young age. I enjoy exploring, sleeping in a variety of interesting places, and laughing at lonely hearts adverts in the Guardian.

Cat Hugs Kitten Through Bad Dream

2011-05-27T10:25:00.001-07:00

Best Website In The World

2011-05-21T01:09:00.000-07:00

I know people are always calling things "the best website in the world" but this actually is:http://goatsonstuff.com/

Extra Celebrity Guest Cat Of The Month: Pickle, Owner Of Award Winning Stand Up Comedian Susan Calman

2011-05-18T03:32:00.000-07:00

Name
Pickle

Nicknames
Pooksie, Pookie Bella, Pudding.

Age
8

Owners
Susan and Lee have overall responsibility for ensuring that my every whim is met. I tolerate them and often reward them for their efforts by allowing them to cuddle me for a brief moment before leaving. I always leave as much cat hair behind though as a reminder of my presence.

Catchphrase?
I don’t meow I chirrup. Therefore my most often uttered phrase is “now”.

Favourite habits?
Lying on my back in the middle of the kitchen floor inviting tummy tickles which are in fact an elaborate trap to allow me to bunny kick arms of baldies who come too close. I also enjoy lying on my back in the hall, bedroom and living room. Except when the heating is on and I lie lie a starfish over the pipes. I also sit in the wardrobe and claw at clothes. Never the cheap stuff though, I prefer to ruin as many expensive jackets and pairs of trousers as possible.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
Given that I am the youngest of 4 cats I enjoy the fact that whatever room I go into contains a buffet. A perfect evening for me would be to fall asleep face down in a bowl of food prior to staking out the kitchen where either more food will magically appear. After eating I might roll around on one of my mum’s coats, claw at the sofa or perhaps a mouse may arrive for an evening game of “chasing the mouse noisily around the house before leaving it beside the bed for my owner to find in the morning.”

Favourite food?
I have bad teeth and have had to have a few removed. Despite that I enjoy eating dried food most of all. Specifically the expensive prescription food that’s meant to be for my Uncle Oscar but I love more than anything. In truth I am probably the greediest cat of all time so will eat almost anything. Except the expensive prescription food my owners got for my dodgy teeth. I just left that.

Defining moment of your life?
Realising that I am the cutest cat in the world and can scratch furniture without punishment. All I need to do is turn to my owners and do my “Lady Di” impression and I am forgiven. In the same way I can lie on top of lap tops and chew cables without fear of reprisal. I can get away with anything.

Any enemies?
My Uncle Muppet is the alpha male of the house and regularly attempts to beat me up. I have to be on my guard against random punches. I get him back though by waiting till he’s asleep and sticking my claws in his substantial behind.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
More people like my owners. Susan has been known to sit on the floor for the whole night instead of disturbing me when I’m on the sofa. That’s the bigger sofa they got to accommodate all the cats. I don’t think she minds though, since she got Uncle Muppet she hasn’t slept more than 4 hours a night in 11 years. She loves us so much.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
My middle name is Kylie so I’d love to meet the woman herself. I think she would like me and we could dance together.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
I’m quite shy so will probably just stay in my house. I think it’s best if I just stick to lying on my back a lot.

Biography
I was born on a farm in Scotland. The only girl out of a litter of 6 it was clear from an early age that I was a princess and so probably needed to live somewhere with central heating rather than live in a barn. I choose Susan because when she arrived at the farm she was as clearly revolted by the smell as I was. Unfortunately I smelt like the farm for a good 6 months until eventually I’d shed all my hair everywhere. I live with Auntie Idgy and Uncle Oscar (Lee’s cats) and Uncle Muppet (Susan’s other cat). I’ve know Lee for 8 years so I don’t think I’m considered a step kid anymore, well except when I’m sick in Lee’s handbag. I thought it was funny.

For more info about Susan, visit www.susancalman.com

Cat And Owl Sodding About

2011-05-17T02:33:00.000-07:00

Guest Cat Of The Month For May: Puddy

2011-05-16T11:25:00.000-07:00

Name
Puddy

Nicknames
Intrepid Adventure Pussy, Cata Hari

Age
1

Owners
Lynn and Simon. Though given my status as a secret undercover agent for the Cat Intelligence Agency, the term ‘handlers’ is probably more appropriate.

Catchphrase?
I could tell you that, but then I’d have to eat you…

Favourite habits?
Scaling vertical objects, free running, paw-to-paw combat, killing things. Not necessarily in that order.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
Quite like doing a stake-out under the hedge – amazing what you can spot if you sit still long enough. I like watching Spooks too – I’ve got quite a few good ideas from them, though their fitness and agility levels are laughable compared with mine.

Favourite food?
Ideally something that’s still warm. I quite like Iams though - crunching keeps my teeth sharp.

Defining moment of your life?
Getting stuck 30 feet up a tree the first time the handlers let me out. Never been so embarrassed in my life, and freaked the handlers out too. That’s when I knew I had to do more CIA training…

Any enemies?
There’s a nasty black and white impuss-ter who makes incursions into the safe house through the cat flap at night. I suspect there’s a mole in the garden, but I’ve got him tailed.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
Putting me in charge. I’m cleverer than most humans I know. And I can, of course speak - I just choose not to.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
I could give that Daniel Craig a run for his money – call himself a secret agent - doesn’t even have the latest fibre-optic hyper-sensitive whiskers!

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
I’m afraid all cat-ernisation has to be puss-itively vetted in advance. And a pro like me doesn’t get stuck in lifts – I’m out through the ceiling and up the cables before you can say ‘shaken, not purred….’

Biography
I was one of a litter of five, but it’s generally agreed I got all the brains. Even at five weeks I was leading an expedition under the washing machine, and less than a day after I came to my new home I was already looking for optimum escape routes. I live with my brother Biscuit who’s a sweetie, but not much good as a field agent, and hopeless in a Code K9 (that’s ‘dog on the grid’ to you). Though he can be useful as a sparring partner to practice my paw-to-paw combat on (the handlers have a pic of that).

Kitten Refuses To Give Up Smoking

2011-05-12T11:43:00.000-07:00

Two Cats Club Together To "Duff Up" Treadmill

2011-05-06T13:05:00.001-07:00

Shipley In Sweary (i.e. normal) Mode

2011-05-06T12:51:00.001-07:00

I often wonder what Shipley's offspring would have been like, if he'd had any. I feel pretty sure they'd have been the first cats ever to speak entirely in human f***words.

A Guide To The Referendum For Cats

2011-04-30T03:35:00.001-07:00

Stuart Maconie on Talk To The Tail

2011-04-26T02:35:00.000-07:00

"Even a confirmed and partisan dog person such as myself cannot fail to be charmed by Tom Cox's gently seductive prose and his quirky tales of singular feline behaviour. A delight." - Pies And Prejudice author/DJ Stuart Maconie on Talk To The Tail

How I Fell In Love With A Fat Ginger Stoner: Piece By Me From Today's Sunday Telegraph Stella Magazine

2011-04-24T09:10:00.001-07:00

It wasn’t a slow burn thing between and Samson and me: I fell in love with him from the moment he first trespassed on my property. “Cat” would have been one description of him, but “ginger beach ball that just happened to have a cat’s head on top” would perhaps have been a more accurate one. He’d been the first feline interloper in the Norfolk house I’d moved into in summer 2004, and lacked the wiliness of alien cats who’d come through catdoors to steal my own moggies’ food before. As I found him munching away at the biscuit dispenser, he’d looked up at me in a casual, near stoned kind of way. Had he been able to speak, I’m certain his greeting would have ended in the word “Dude”.

It wasn’t until a month later that I found out Samson belonged to Ruby, the old lady who lived across the road. For years, Ruby had invited her neighbours to her beautiful Georgian house for Christmas drinks, and this year she’d extended the invitation to me and Dee. Since moving away from London in 2001, we’d pinged stressfully around Norfolk, from one problem neighbour to another, and here, in an 85 year-old’s living room, it seemed, finally, was a form of peace. Finding our mysterious roly-poly ginger trespasser sitting on Ruby’s sofa, adults perched around him like secondary citizens, was a bonus. Even now, when I think of the phrase “perfect neighbourhood”, I conjure up a picture of a small street with several dozen Rubys on it, all accompanied by happy marmalade cat.

I soon realised that Ruby’s relationship with Samson was an unusually close one. Her husband had died over two decades earlier, her three sons all lived far away, and, while she lived a social and sprightly life, Samson was her main companion. Her house was always fresh and airy, and looked immaculate. The exceptions were her sofas and armchairs, which were so violently slashed, one might have imagined a special task force of inept policemen had recently cut them open in a drugs raid. Then there were her hands. “He likes to give me little nips, from time to time,” she said, showing me cracked skin and knuckles raging dark purple with bruises.

I’ve written two books about my cats now, so my status as a lifelong feline lover is very much “out”, but back when I first met Ruby, I’d often find people surprised by my attachment to an animal often viewed as “for women”. Being a cat lover has led me to many unlikely friendships, none more so than the one I developed with Ruby over the next five years. She was an octogenarian church group regular with a passion for Debussy and Marks & Spencer thermals. I was a 30something agnostic with unruly hair, a beard, flares and a large collection of prog rock. Yet, in our cats, we found common ground. Before long, we were recommending books to one another, and I was accompanying her to classical music recitals in Norwich. She didn’t quite get to the stage of listening to my Atomic Rooster LPs, but she’d trustingly feed me neighbourhood gossip: the gardener who dressed up in women’s clothes, the hospital that was closed down due to philandering doctors and nurses, stories which neither of us found any less fascinating for being four decades out of date.

Sadly, I didn’t see a lot of Ruby in the months immediately preceding her sudden death, in spring 2009. I’d been somewhat AWOL amidst the demise of my marriage, and not made the effort to stay in touch I should have. After offering my condolences to her son, Jonathan, I asked what had happened to Samson. “He’s still here. Would you like him?” he said. I agonised. The idea of a large ginger cat who looked like he was addicted to class B drugs had its appeal, but I already had six cats of my own. Fortunately, a little research led me to Daniel and Louise, friends of a friend, who sounded interested in Samson.

Two days later, the couple collected him, and I watched as Jonathan made journey after journey into Ruby’s cupboard, emerging with more of the attendant paraphernalia of East Anglia’s most loved cat: a ceramic likeness, some Samson coasters Ruby had had custom made, and what I can best describe as a “feline skateboard”. “Oh, and he’s used to getting a chicken wing a day,” said Jonathan.

I hear Samson is still doing well now. Following his new diet, he appears to be clad in an oversized ginger jumper. He’s on dry-food only now, and scratching is not allowed. He’s still prone to the odd wander, though, and I like to think that these lead him through the catslap of a kindly neighbour, who will sate his appetite as his big blank moonface looks up at them. My street, meanwhile, feels just a bit colder without him and his owner.

Read more about Samson in Talk To The Tail!

Read the book before Talk To The Tail: Under The Paw!

The Honey Badger: The "Crazy F***" Of The Animal Kingdom

2011-04-22T01:23:00.001-07:00

The Under The Paw Cats Hanging Out In The Sun

2011-04-19T09:40:00.000-07:00

Read more about Ralph, Shipley, The Bear and pals in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail!

Duck In My Conservatory

2011-04-17T04:58:00.000-07:00

Heard a sound. Thought: "That's odd. Sounds like a duck pissing about in my conservatory." Went to look. Turned out there was a duck pissing about in my conservatory.

Ralph In Neckties, #3: 'Gangland Sleaze'

2011-04-16T10:18:00.000-07:00

Tough Cats Comp Winner Luvly And Friends With His Winnings

2011-04-15T07:34:00.000-07:00

Some pics of Luvly, the winner of Under The Paw's Toughest Cat contest, with his Applaws winnings, which he's been sharing with - or guarding quite fiercely from, by the looks of things - the rest of the residents of Shropshire Cat Rescue.

Writers And Cats Blog

2011-04-14T02:45:00.000-07:00

Absolutely love this collection of photos of authors with their cats. Okay, the blog is actually called Writers And Kitties, but I have an aversion to the word "kitties" in much the same way I have an aversion to the word "herbs" being prounced "erbs", so I have changed it for my own convenience.

This is Patricia Highsmith. I like her books, and once wrote piece about her for The Guardian. My guess is that, if she ever used an online dating site, she probably took the advice of friends, and left this pic out of her profile:

This is Don DeLillo. I like some of his books, except not quite as many of them as I did when I was 22, and more pretentious:

More here....

Cat And Dolphin Make Friends

2011-04-10T23:06:00.001-07:00

Cat Puts On Its Own Rabbit Mask

2011-04-04T00:23:00.000-07:00

Tired Cat Passes Out

2011-04-01T05:42:00.001-07:00

The 2011 Search For The Internet's Toughest Moggies: The Winners

2011-04-01T04:25:00.000-07:00

Massive thanks to everyone who entered this year's Toughest Cat Comp, and those who tried to sway (and probably did, slightly) the judges. To be honest, there was virtually nothing to choose between the top three - each of whom displays a very different kind of feline toughness to their peers - but my final decision was largely dictated by the fact that I'm a sucker for a good feline rescue story. So, without further ado...

THIRD PLACE
Punk

SECOND PLACE
Beeswax

THE CHAMPION:
Luvly
Before:

After:

Punk and Beeswax both win signed copies of my latest book, Talk To The Tail, which they will hopefully let their owners read after they've finished. Luvly, meanwhile, will received a signed copy, including a special illustration by Jackie Morris, and a £100 HAMPER of the addictive Applaws cat food, which he will be sharing with his fellow moggies at Shropshire Cat Rescue. I was lucky enough to grab a few quick words with him in the aftermath of his victory...

Hello Luvly. How do you feel about winning the title of The Internet's Toughest Cat?
Feelings? Feelings are for the weak and emotional. Er, what's the Internet??

Can you tell us a little bit about your life?
I don't remember much about the beginning. They've told me I was in a bad way and that now I'm a little miracle. Of *course* I'm a miracle, I'm Luvly, and don't you forget it. Daily routine goes something like this........in the mornings one of my servants brings me tasty morsels before I start my daily patrol. There's the elderlies to check in on - that can take a while because they can't half go on. By mid morning my claws need sharpening and as luck would have it there are always four wonderful scratching posts one on each corner of the tin boxes that the hoomans move about in. Then I might go for a siesta in one of the many hideyholes there are dotted around. After a snooze I will go bother the girls in the office, honestly, their grammar leaves alot to be desired but at least I get to torment the mouse. Climbing up trees or on the shed rooves is something I particularly enjoy - from up there I can survey my domain. Early evening more servants arrive with more food, before I cosy up for the night.

And what do you think are your particular "hard cat" qualities?
All this talk of me being hard, pah, I'm a pussycat! I had nothing to do with next door's dog going into therapy. Honest. And what do they expect if I lie on my back for a tummyrub? Of *course*I'm going to grab, that's what claws are for. Can't have people thinking I'm a softie now can I

Finally, what do you plan to do with your winnings, and how are you thinking of celebrating?
As I'm a generous soul I'm going to share the Applaws with some of my comrades, and the elderlies, who are queuing up for it already. Thought I might also have a cattogram. But bet they won't think of that.............

Hungover Owls

2011-03-29T07:03:00.001-07:00

More here.

A Person Shouldn't Have To Live Under This Kind Of Scrutiny

2011-03-29T05:53:00.001-07:00

Frontrunners In The 2011 Toughest Cat Competition

2011-03-28T01:35:00.001-07:00

Beeswax:

Blade:

Toki Smoky:

Punk:

Tokyo Cat from Calum:

Beefer:

Scoob-Ditty:

Ozzie:

Gaia:

Monty:

Flor

Anonymous from Maggie:

Anonymous from Stacey:

Allegro

Luvly
Before:

After:

Three days to go until entries close! The winner will receive a £100 HAMPER of the addictive Applaws cat food, and a signed copy of Talk To The Tail, including within it an EXCLUSIVE illustration by the brilliant Jackie Morris. Second and third prizes will win signed Talk To The Tails. Submit your entries via Facebook, or by sending them to underthepaw@tom-cox.com.

Can't See Any Way This Is Going To End Well

2011-03-24T03:36:00.000-07:00

Narcissist

2011-03-24T03:35:00.001-07:00

A Lovely Quote About Talk To The Tail From Mighty Boosh/Snuff Box Star Rich Fulcher

2011-03-23T13:27:00.000-07:00

"If you think this very funny book is just about cats, you will be joyfully mistaken. Talk to the Tail also magnificently covers everything from depressed tigers to judgmental horses to mischievous alter ego spaniels to Jon Bon Jovi. I, myself, am allergic to cats, but with Tom's realistic and descriptive powers, I'm definitely not allergic to this book."

Cat Becomes Angry When Its Potato Is Misplaced

2011-03-23T12:54:00.001-07:00

The Bear Photobombs Ralph

2011-03-20T12:09:00.001-07:00

One Of The Cats With Thumbs From The Advert Reviews Talk To The Tail

2011-03-16T10:59:00.001-07:00

The Third Annual Toughest Cat Competition

2011-03-16T09:20:00.001-07:00

Long time followers of the Under The Paw blog will be familiar with the Toughest Cat competition (see previous winners Grebo and Rufus Bugcat, above). It's simple: you send in pictures of your cats looking really hard, then my cats and I decide which is the hardest, while you try to (and sometimes do) sway the judging process by getting your friends to post enthusiastic comments like, "Oooh, I wouldn't want to come across him on a dark night!" This year the drill is the same: post a pic of your hard cat looking hard on the Facebook event page (preferable), or, if you're not on Facebook, send it to underthepaw@tom-cox.com*.

For 2011's toughest cats, there are better prizes than ever before. The winner will not only receive a £100 HAMPER of the addictive Applaws cat food, but a signed copy of Talk To The Tail, including within it an EXCLUSIVE illustration by the brilliant Jackie Morris of Kiffer, her sadly departed hard cat (see below). I met Kiffer in 2009, when I went cat-walking at Jackie's place in Pembrokeshire, formed an instant bond with him, and, upon hearing he had passed away, dedicated Talk To The Tail to him. You can read Jackie's wonderful blog here, and find plenty of pictures celebrating his life. Second and third place tough cats will each both also received a signed copy of Talk To The Tail. Entries close on March 31st, so don't waste any time in forcing your cats down to their local weight room, or perhaps just making them really irritated by withholding their favourite snacks for twenty minutes or so...

* NB: This email isn't in permanent use: I only open it up for comps such as this.

Cat Photo Of The Week

2011-03-15T06:07:00.000-07:00

This Cat Food Will Bankrupt Me

2011-03-15T02:53:00.000-07:00

It's now over a month since my cat Janet died. In that time, there have been three main developments for my remaining felines, Ralph, Shipley and The Bear. Shipley has gone from calling me a "f*&$%%£%£ &@****^£" 48 times a day to calling me one 76 times a day. A mangy stray has been coming around, talking trash at the three of them, and pissing on my blackboard while I'm asleep. Thirdly, all four of them - I'm including the stray here, as it seems to turn up whenever it's feeding time - have become addicted to Applaws (also known as Encore in some supermarkets), a cat food apparently so similar to human food that, when I first saw it, whilst writing a piece on the 1997 Supreme Cat Show for the Daily Telegraph, its chef demonstrated how good it was by eating some himself.

The problem is perhaps that these new occurrences in my cats' daily lives are feeding off one another, inexorably. When Shipley swears, I feel bad that he has lost his old fluffy playmate, and give him more Applaws. When I give him more Applaws, he swears more, because he knows it gets him more Applaws. When I give him more Applaws, the stray cat turns up, thinking it might get some Applaws, then pissing on my blackboard, talking its street slang at my cats and passing on its conjunctivitis to them out of dissatisfaction. When the stray cat pisses on my blackboard, talks its street slang at my cats and passes on its conjunctivitis to them, I feed them more Applaws, to make them feel better. It's a vicious circle, and I can only see it ending one way: with me selling my body in one of Norwich's less salubrious night spots, in order for all five of us to carry on like this. It sounds grim, sure, but it's important to put things in perspective: everyone's struggling in the current economic climate, and needs must. Besides, I once had to do a pole dancing class for an article in a women's magazine, and it's about time I put what I learned to good use.

I suppose the other option is that I try a bit of tough love: ration The Bear, Shipley and Ralph to two or three tins of Applaws between them a day. But it's easier said than done. If I ignore Shipley calling me a "w*** p***et" at the top of his voice, I then also have to ignore Ralph doing that beaming "I'm so pleased to be me - revel in my glory, now!" face on the other side of the kitchen, and The Bear nodding in the direction of the food cupboard whilst looking soulfully into my eyes in the way only he can. I currently have a large puncture wound in my ankle, merely from delaying breakfast until 10am this morning. But if Shipley can do that to a digit, why can't he keep the stray away? I like to think it's because he's still adjusting to a reshifting of roles since Janet - always the defender of the realm against alien cats - passed away, or that he's worried about what he might catch from the stray in a potential battle, but recent evidence suggests otherwise. The stray turned up last night, and, as Shipley stayed inside, presumably because he needed to sort out his side-parting, I got a first proper glimpse of the phantom beast which I'd imagined as huge, and peppered with festering body sores, and which, in the past, I'd only seen as a flash of retreating ginger. It was the size of a small cushion, and looked like it had just got back from a weekend away at a high class spa overseen by a gay ferret.

The Many Hairstyles Of Maru

2011-03-09T03:14:00.001-08:00

Possibly The Cleverest Advertising Campaign Of 2011

2011-03-02T08:06:00.001-08:00

I must have been sent this video 40-something times in the last week by readers and my Twitter followers. The people who made it were very clever and probably knew that people like me - and the people who sent it to me - would endlessly link to it and spread it virally:

Additionally, the makers of the advert sent my cats some cardigans, "handmade by thumbcats" (apparently Mabel, the thumbcat in the advert with the embroidery, is the specific cat responsible for knitting them). They didn't, however, say that they were advertising milk - just that they'd read Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail and wanted to send my cats some presents. It's all very stealthy. They probably assumed I would post pictures of The Bear, Ralph and Shipley in the cardigans. WELL I AM NOT GOING TO PANDER TO THAT. WHO DO THEY THINK I AM? I AM AN ARTIST, NOT A FACILITATOR FOR CORPORATE GAIN.

Oh, okay. I've changed my mind. Here are my cats in the cardigans.

*

* Late one night soon, when I am fast asleep, Ralph will piss in my kettle.

Ralph In Ties. Number Two: "The Dishevelled Morning After Hippie"

2011-03-01T03:38:00.000-08:00

Talk To Tail Reading In London Tomorrow!

2011-02-28T08:54:00.001-08:00

I will be reading from Talk To The Tail at the Waterstone's store in London's Notting Hill Gate tomorrow, March 1st, from 7pm. Do come along and join me! Tickets cost £3 though will be redeemable against a (signed) copy of the book.

I'd Been Really Looking Forward To Drinking This Glass Of Water

2011-02-24T12:18:00.001-08:00

Ralph In Ties. Number One: "Jason King"

2011-02-24T03:49:00.000-08:00

Cat Gives Thumbs Up

2011-02-23T09:53:00.000-08:00

Cat Burglar Caught In The Act

2011-02-20T04:46:00.000-08:00

RIP Janet (1997-2011)

2011-02-11T04:25:00.000-08:00

My cat Janet - my fluffiest cat, my most happy-go-lucky-cat, my cattest cat, my dumbest cat, my gender mix-up cat, the cat I'd known the longest, of all the cats I've known in my adult life - died on Friday morning. It's hard to say how old he was precisely, because my ex, Dee, didn't own him from early kittenhood, and was never great with dates, but I'd estimate that he was coming towards his fourteenth birthday. He'd had a heart condition for the last few years, coupled with an overactive thyroid gland, for which I'd had to dose him with two pills every day. Those who've read my latest book, Talk To The Tail, will know that he was very ill in 2009, to the point where I was worried he wouldn't survive. Nonetheless, his death came as a giant shock of the kind that I can still feel in my chest right now. As shocking, in its own way, as the last cat death I had to confront: that of Brewer, in 2002, who, at the age of only one, was run over by a speeding prison officer outside my house.

I've sat down to try to write this a few times already, then decided I wasn't ready. I'm probably not ready now, but I feel like by doing it, it might help in some small way. Over the last few days, I've done everything I can to not feel utterly desperate and desolate - spent a lot of time with friends, talked to the people closest to me, escaped to a field and sat on a stile for three quarters of an hour, doing nothing but listening to the trickle of a nearby stream - but the ache of knowing the pain Janet must have been in the end, knowing he's not going to be here again, has manifested itself physically.

It feels odd broadcasting something so personal on the Internet, but it would feel odd not to broadcast it too. I know that I've felt close to characters in books before, and, from the messages I've received from readers about Janet, a lot of you felt you knew him too, even though you hadn't had the privilege of being batted by one of his flailing paws. I also know, from the support I've received already via Twitter and email, that for many, he was the most entertaining feline character in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail. That shouldn't surprise me - he constantly entertained me, from the early days when he would skate across the laminate floors of my and Dee's London flat in pursuit of loose polystyrene beads, right to the end - but in a way it does, just because Janet was the one of my cats who seemed most casually... there. That's not to say he was characterless - on the contrary - nor that he wasn't often the first cat to make friends with a house guest; just to say he had more uncomplicated approach to life than my other cats, and seemed less keen to impress his eccentricities and hang-ups on you. His was a ubiquity and steadfastness without too many dramatic ups and downs.

Regular readers of this blog will know the difficulty I've had pilling Janet, and the psychological games I've had to play in order to do so successfully. Sometimes, I'd think I'd got him to swallow the pills successfully, then a few minutes later find one of them stuck to my leg or a kitchen kickboard. I'd wrap them in ham and butter, secrete them inside a chunk of cat food, drop them into his mouth manually. Once, frustrated to see him spit them out for the fourth time in a row - and I can't believe I'm admitting this - I even spat into his mouth, in a (triumphant) attempt to get him to swallow. Each method would work for a while until he got wise to it, and then I would wish, as I so often have done with my cats, but perhaps now more so than ever, that I had the gift of being able to speak their language, and explain I was doing this for his own welfare, not out of spite.

My most recent method had been to push the pills into the centre of half a dog treat from a bag of them, kindly given to me by my vet in exchange for the sum of approximately seven hundred and twelve thousand pounds. This had been working quite well, but, even so, food time had become a stressful time for Janet, so when I saw him hanging back, at the bottom of the stairs on Friday morning, not coming to my call, while I fed the other cats, I didn't see it as too unusual. He'd done this a few times recently, so I thought nothing of it, other than that I would feed him separately a short while later. Thinking of ways I could make mealtimes more pleasant for him, a couple of days previously I'd been to the pet shop down the road and bought some Applaws - a cat food so upmarket it's a surprise it doesn't come with its own croutons and pre-grated parmesan. He'd wolfed this down the day before, and indulged in a subsequent celebratory padding session next to me on my bed, his purr so loud it almost seemed like an intimidation tactic. In other words, I wasn't worried, but now I wish that I'd been less distracted: that I hadn't been sidetracked by the Internet, or the TV I was reviewing, and had checked his heartbeat. He'd been to the vet over a week previously for his regular blood test, and had lost weight. The vet didn't seemed overly concerned, but I'd been trying to keep a closer eye on Janet than usual.

It was about an hour after I'd fed the cats, coming out of the bathroom, that I heard the noise. I would compare it to the sound of a too long-unoiled door being ripped from its hinges, yet it was too animal, too visceral, for that. I walked into the living room and saw Shipley standing up, alert, from his perch on a beanbag and looking in the direction of the staircase. I think, even then, I knew, because I approached the stairs in a wide, cautious circle: it might have looked, to a bystander, like I was preparing for the world's most apprehensive high jump. I wasn't thinking - perhaps there was part of me that wondered if the noise had come from an animal brought in by the cats, but Ralph and Shipley were in sleeping mode, and those are the cats who bring in other, less fortunate creatures - but I was afraid of what I might find. I turned the corner on the stairs and found Janet slumped awkwardly across two of them. He looked deflated and as I ran to him and held him I think I saw the last bit of life fading from his eye. I lifted his paw, with the thought that he might be in some kind of temporary paralysis, but I knew - even though I'd never been with one of my pets at its moment of death before - that he had gone. I assume he had a heart attack and the best thing I can say about it is that he clearly did not suffer whatever terrible pain had wrenched that noise from him for long.

When my second childhood cat, Tabs, was run over, when I was 11, my dad sprung into action and played protector to me: making sure I was locked inside the house as he took her body from the side of the road, then buried her in the garden. In a sense, as adults, when one of our animals dies, vets play a minor version of the role my dad played that day: they're a small parent, just for a few minutes. But when a cat dies at home, we're alone - even more so when we live alone, as I do, and have no life partner, as I do not. I can honestly say that in the next two hours I felt more isolated than I've ever done in my life. "Should I call the vet?" I thought. No. There would be no point. Vets don't employ paramedics. Should I call my mum? Yes, and I did, but she lives over a hundred miles away. Should I call Dee to tell her that the cat that had originally been hers had passed away? Yes, and I did, but she was on voicemail, unavailable, for several hours. Should I call my friends or my neighbour Deborah? No. They would be at work.

I've never been of a particularly melancholy disposition. I know, in fact, I have the potential to drive someone close to me to distraction with my deluded optimism. I get down, like all people, sometimes, particularly in the winter, but I'm never down for long. That said, it would be even more foolishly optimistic of me than ever to claim that this year had been a never-ending party so far: my tax bill has turned out to be far more expensive than I thought, my new book - despite a hugely reassuring reader response - has received zero newspaper coverage and no foreign sales, the next one is far from "in the bag" in any sense, it's never been harder to sell the kind of writing I do best to magazines and papers, I've never had so many close friends ill or out of work, it feels like such a gargantuan aeon since I've been in love I've started to wonder if it'll ever happen again, I've had a filling fall out twice in two weeks, and just the other week, I accidentally burnt a sizeable chunk of my hair off on a candle. However, in my wrapping of Janet's stiffening body in a sheet and moving it, then burying it under the apple tree in the garden, my mind became a piece of Terminator-style metal for those worries to bounce off. Even now, I feel like none of them can touch me. I am not happy - far from it. I have just never felt more conscious of what's important in life. I also feel painfully, tragically, like an adult, in a new way.

It's a cliche to say that bereavement is a time when you find out who your friends are, but it's true. Christina Hendricks, Thora Birch and Kat Dennings haven't called, but, that disappointment aside, I can honestly say that I feel the friends I have right now - those people I talk to most often - are the best I've ever had. They've confirmed that I have become good at something I wasn't very good at for a long long time: surrounding myself with warm, kind people. My ex-lodger, Katia, was particularly sad to hear of Janet's death, and shed a tear with me, as did others. Janet was a true People Cat. He was the cat who brought me back to moggy serfdom, after the one, anomalous, catless period of my life. In Of Mice And Men terms, he was the Lenny to The Bear's George. The other cats don't quite seem the same without their big dumb step-brother, and the house feels like it has a hole in it. I do not feel "relieved" that I no longer have to spend £100 a month on his vet bills, nor that I can now perhaps confidently go on holiday, maybe, for a couple of days, for the first time in what feels like forever. I just want him back, right here, headbutting me with his preternaturally cold nose, rolling over in response to my one note whistle, or mistiming a jump onto the stair-rail, and breaking yet another bit of 60s West German pottery. His pills are still in the cat food cupboard, and I can't bring myself to do anything with them. (They're expensive, and I'd like to give them to the owner of another hyperthyroid cat, but how do you make that offer: "Here - have my dead pet's medication! Fancy a Thorntons praline, too?"?)

Back when I first lived with him, in London, Janet befriended a neighbourhood fox: a fox so mangy, chickens probably barely thought twice before disrespecting it to its face in street patois. As I looked out of the back wind of my Blackheath flat, I'd see them together, sitting on the communal lawn, in companionable silence. One of the thoughts I've tried to focus on in the last few days is that Janet has been reunited with this fox. Another is that there are many, awful, lingering ways for a cat to die, and he did not suffer one of them. I succeed in zoning in on these thoughts for a while. But as I wander around the house, trying and failing to work, showering the other cats with attention - to their increasing annoyance - I keep feeling like I've forgotten something, or, rather, that I've left something behind. I know what it is, and that it's gone, but I can't shake the feeling that if I strain my tired brain enough, there's a way, somehow, I can get it back.

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2011-02-10T10:06:00.001-08:00

Men With Beards With Cats

Single Women And Cats: Finally, The Explanation

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Zen Master Foodstack Mog

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2011-01-31T10:12:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, people send me photos of their cats reading my books. Sometimes, THEY ARE AWESOME

2011-01-14T07:32:00.000-08:00

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Talk to the Tail Is Out TODAY

2011-01-06T11:02:00.000-08:00