Mary, queen of cats

the day-to-day of a grey, furry thing

Feline labelling

buried in the ' , , , , , , , , , ' sandboxes by zsh at 22h57 on Thursday, August 27, 2009

As any pet owner knows, a collar and tag are essential pieces of equipment.  If your favourite, furred friend is a wanderer at heart, chances are they could get confused on their way home. As any cat owner knows, the tendency of felines to squish themselves into the darnedest of places knows no bounds.  Often the smaller the entrance, the better.

This leads to a bit of a concern regarding the cat’s collar – not only must an owner make sure the collar itself is stretchable, so it can easily slip off if their wearer is in danger of choking or worse, but it should also be ultimately able to tear or snap to get them out of a jam. That being said, the collar not being as fixed as it could be does lead to the more rambunctious feline losing more than their fair share.

And this presents a difficulty in and of itself – what about the tag?  One can only have so many collars around the house, especially with a cat that goes through them like most people go through underwear.  And of course there’s no way we would allow Mary out without a tag on her collar.  If she were lost and someone picked her up, they’d have no recourse but to deliver her to the SPCA, which (like many well-intended animal organisations) is animal welfare- and not animal rights-oriented, and largely a bureaucratic farce, so definitely not a place I’d like my girl to ever see the inside of.  This is assuming, of course, that those who find her have good intentions and aren’t just out to steal her for themselves.  And who wouldn’t want to?  You’ve seen her pictures, right? ;)

To cut a long story short, the pain of having to have a set of pre-engraved tags, or having to rush about looking for an engraver and/or pet tags while her majestic-ness sits at home growing more inclined to pommel any people-flesh she sees exposed with her incredibly long claws while we sleep, is not conducive to a healthy cat-and-person relationship.

Imagine our glee (srsly, glee) at finding a little collar called the Rogz – it’s a little plastic tag doohickey that allows one to scribble/print down the relevant details and snap the tag together themselves.  Also handy if you need to change said details.  You can check out their site for more info (and no, we’re not getting commission from them, just appreciating the product), but the pic below gives an idea of what it looks like:

Plastic Rogz tags

Plastic Rogz tags

The following images show Mary wearing her own Rogz tags – obviously they suit her rather… er… active lifestyle:

Cat and tag caught unawares

Cat and tag caught unawares

And from another angle

And from another angle

Waking with a camera up the schnozz

Waking with a camera up the schnozz

Cat, unamused.

Cat, unamused.

One Queen, One Throne

buried in the ' ' sandboxes by Nikki at 16h04 on Monday, August 24, 2009

Ever since we had Mary, she loved couches. She loves a good cuddle come bed time, but she loves stretching out and relaxing on a good old fashioned couch.
We recently decided to redecorate and since we changed our colour scheme, we got a new couch. True to form, the Queen was on her throne in no time.
This time she acted slightly differently though. Although Mary’s male human companion is more than welcome on the couch, it seems to bother her when I sit on it. The moment I sit down, no matter where she is, she will leave what she is doing and come and sit on the couch staring at me in a very accusatory way. Once I am off the couch, she immediately relaxes. Often she would get off the couch too and return to what she was doing.
I guess in our house hold it is “One Queen, One Throne”.

Your Majesty on her throne

Your Majesty on her throne

A Popular Queen

buried in the ' , , ' sandboxes by Nikki at 11h48 on Wednesday, August 12, 2009

As posted many times before, we always know Mary is in need of a visit to the vet when we notice changes in her behavior. Lately she has become needy and clingy and when I felt the base of her tail, she had the skin irritation again. Off to the vet we went. She wasn’t particularly amused (she never is!), but she is *such* an incredibly good cat. She didn’t meow once, didn’t struggle, sat quietly in her carrier cage and that was that. I remember there used to be a time where we would take her to the vet without any restraints and she would sit next to us on the chairs in the waiting room. We eventually decided on a carry cage for her own safety in case other animals decided she looked like she was a worthy opponent for a fight.

Mary will be going back to the vet this week, but this time to have her teeth cleaned (which is long overdue). We will report back on how that went.

On a different note though – the one night I was sitting in front of the telly, laptop on my lap, when I heard this unearthly scream. I almost fell of the couch, the laptop almost went flying and my heart rate went through the roof. Turns out Mary was standing at the door, warning everyone within the lair (the flat) of stranger danger by the door! I was so proud of her! It happened a second time and this time I quietly snuck out to check who this “stranger” was. Turns out it was Murphy, her friend from a while back. I have seen her and Murphy around and there has never been any animosity, but clearly Murphy wanting to join us in the lair was a huge no-no which she made clear to just about everybody within the complex!

There is another twist to the story. Another kitty seems to be calling out for Mary (she is mighty popular within her own community it seems). Jasper, a fluffy black and white cat, has been in the vicinity calling out for Mary in gentle cries. Mary would pop her head outside and just sit and stare at Jasper, which I think is kind of rude of her. All he wants is her company and all she does is sit and stare at him.

It seems Jasper has kind of given up because I have not heard him call her in the last two days. But maybe he is more forgiving than she is and will hopefully try and become Mary’s friend again.

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