Welcome to Catisms.com, which is run by 19 weird and wonderful cats who belong to six awesome cat ladies. This site is about their cult-like devotion to us, and to all cats. It’s about laughing at cat pics, videos, stories and jokes … and about the fun games we teach them to play with us. It’s about sharing their best cat-care tips with you. And it’s about pooling their resources to help support cat shelters and other worthy cat causes for our less fortunate feline friends.
So maybe our cat ladies garnish their meals with our cat hair, sleep like statues so as not to disturb us while we sleep in their beds, and overload their hard drives with cute cat pics and videos … mostly of us. They never make a trip to the store without bringing back toys and treats for us. They pick their fashions based on which clothing hides the cat hair. And they think that we cats make the BEST conversationalists.
But none of this makes them crazy… it just means that they love their cats. And if you like cats even a fraction as much as they do, then you’re going to absolutely love this site.[once we get the FB page up, this would be a good place to have a call to action to “like” the FB page]
Meet the Cat Ladies…
Kitty and Lee Dobbins –
I was destined for a life of pampered luxury. So, when I found myself inside a tiny crate at the animal shelter, I didn’t panic. I knew my humans would come to find me. Crouching in my crate amidst the meowing and wailing of the other cats, I watched a parade of humans walk by. When they peered into my crate I hissed, tried to look sickly or turned my back. I didn’t want just any humans, these ones had to be special.
Then, one day they came. I watched them walk around the room, waiting for them to come to my cage. The woman spent a good amount of time at each crate, ohhing and ahhing and poking her fingers in, but the man didn’t seem interested in any of the other cats.
Finally, they made their way to my crate.
“Ohh, look how pretty this one is!” the woman said.
I struck my most flattering pose and batted my big baby blues at her.
The man looked at me with interest.
“I like that one,” he said gruffly.
The woman was still peering at me tilting her head this way and that, so I delivered the final crushing blow that would seal the deal and make her realize she had to take me home.
I let out a little teeny, tiny pitiful meow.
“Let’s take her,” she said.
And the rest…is history.
Scooter and Marj Wyatt ~
When I was a baby cat, my brothers and sisters and me lived at the Humane Society in Golden Valley, Minnesota. The people who took care of us were nice but the cage was cold and cramped.
One day, a lady came up to our cage and seemed pleased to find us. My big brother got in my way so she picked him out of the cage and they both disappeared behind a door. I wondered where they went…
A little while later, she returned my brother to our cage but she still kept looking at us. I pushed my way over to the side of the cage she was at and made her look at me. She said, “White whiskers!”
She opened the cage door and picked me up. She brought me to a room where she sat on a bench and put me on the cold floor. I ran right over to her again and I think she thought it was because I liked her or something because she seemed very pleased that I had done that. She poked at me with her fingers and I tried to bat them away. She began laughing. Then she picked me up. I nuzzled into her shoulder. Her hair was so soft. I heard her say, “A big buzz!”
I didn’t know what she was thinking but she gathered up her bag, and me, and we walked past the cage, where I waved at my brothers and sisters, and rode her shoulder into the other part of the building. She stood around for a while and talked to some man who was pushing at keys and stuff. Humans … they do the oddest things.
When he tried to put me in some box and CLOSE THE LID, I got upset. I could hear the nice lady’s voice talking to me but I couldn’t really see her. After she set the box down somewhere, we started moving.
It was scary for me. I wasn’t sure where I was going at all. But, I kept hearing the lady’s voice and this made me a little more comfortable. We stopped somewhere and she picked up the box that I was in and started carrying me somewhere else! This made me really scared and I yelled really loud.
Eventually, she opened the box top and lifted me out of it. She put me in the palm of her hand and looked right at me, nose to nose, and said, “I have no idea what to call you but it will reveal itself to me.” Then she put me on the floor. It was amazing to have room to run and there were so many new things to smell and investigate. I wanted to take everything in at once but I was just a little cat so I had to keep racing around and under things to get a lay of the land.
Eventually, I heard her making a noise which I now know is laughter. She said one word, “Scooter.” That was what she decided to name me, I guess.
We’ve lived together nearly 17 years, as of this writing. Training her has been a lot of fun! I’m still teaching her new games to play and I know that I’ve hit a home run when she laughs. We get along great!
Rebecca is owned and operated by a committee of nine cats: Bandit, Lewis, Bullseye, Sidekick, Lucky, Sunshine, Mucci, Little Dirt and Georgie.
According to the ownership contract, Rebecca is required to spend most of her time playing with, petting or otherwise paying attention to her feline friends. However, the Cat Committee recently voted to add “blogging about the cats” as an approved activity.
If you don’t see Rebecca around, she’s probably taming strays, socializing kittens, providing hospice care for terminally ill cats, laughing at the cats’ antics, ooohing and awwwing over the dead mice that the cats bring her, rearranging furniture to suit the cats, vacuuming cat hair off the floor, removing upchucked hairballs from her chairs, and running to the vet. She’s also been known to walk into a burning building to save a cat family. But that’s a story for another day.
Harry and San
The first time I saw San was at the cat shelter where I’d been taken with my big brother. We’d been there since just after being born and I didn’t like it one bit. Why on earth those folks thought I would like being stuck in a cage I have no idea. Mind you, I wasn’t that impressed with San either. She came in with two smaller humans, both of whom kept jumping up and down and squealing at me. Ugh, I tried to shout at them but being so small I could barely make myself heard above the din. In the end, San managed to calm them down and I was taken out of my cage so she could cuddle me and show me off to the smaller humans. I’d never been cuddled before and ashamed as I am to admit it, it felt kinda good.
Then I was put back in the cage and they all left. Humph! And they say cats are fickle.
But then a few days later she came back and took me away in her car. We drove around for a while until we reached the place where she lived and I couldn’t believe it when we got there and she let me run around the whole time. No more cage. YAY for me.
The little humans were there again, (turns out they’re her grandkids and never away from the place), and a huge, gangling beast of a dog, called Casey. He was the first family member to be trained, even before San and her grandkids. I figured he might have some fancy idea that because he was bigger than me, and because he was a dog, that he might think he was the master of the house. (You know how stupid dogs are right?) It wouldn’t have been fair to let him carry on thinking that now that I’d arrived.
Training everyone to do my bidding was pretty simple. Before long they all knew I was to be fed, petted, played with and cuddled ONLY when I wanted to. At all other times I was to be left alone to do as I please.
I’ve been here almost two years now and have no complaints. Well, actually, I do have one. For some strange reason San doesn’t seem to appreciate the presents I bring for her. I’ve tried both mice and birds, but nothing pleases that woman. Still, if she’s happy to serve me for no reward then so be it. She does seem to like it when I help her out with her work on the computer though, (she creates cover designs for other humans). To be honest, she’s not that good on her own. I doubt anyone would buy her stuff if it wasn’t for the help I give her. But, as any money she makes goes towards buying me new toys and keeping me in a certain style of luxury, I don’t mind helping her out.
Now she’s involved with this Catisms blog thing on the Internet, it looks as though I’m going to have to help out even more. Hopefully, all you other cats out there will pitch in too so I don’t have to work too hard.
Smidgen, et al and Anita
I’ve been told I’m a rescued cat. I’m not sure what that means, but I think it may mean I’m extra special. My lady certainly treats me like I’m special.
My earliest memories are rather sketchy. I sort of remember a lot of things, but not much really clearly. One memory that stands out is the lady putting some plastic thing in my mouth that food and water came out of. I remember her talking softly to me, and holding me too.
But most of it is a blur. And I don’t remember anything before that, even though I know I should.
I share the lady, and some guy, with three other cats. No Way Jose is getting older, and he doesn’t cause any trouble for me. Munchkin is older too, but she is a terror. I’ve had to show her that she is not the cat in charge.
Then there is Newman. He’s around my age, and we play together. I like to sneak up on him and bat his ear. Except he usually knows what I’m doing. We wrestle and roll around a lot. It’s fun and wears me out. Then I go take a nap. And I take a lot of naps.
My lady spends a lot of time with some strange thing she calls a computer. But I think it’s magic and it’s cast an evil spell on her. Why else would she pay more attention to it than to me?
I’ve got a strategy to break the spell, though. I sleep at her feet for a while, then make her get up to let me out of the room. And then I come back and make her get up to let me back in.
I think it’s working, but let me get back to you on that.
A bit over a year and a half ago, I remember being all cold and lonely because my mother took away all my brothers and sisters from me and left me behind. Being only two weeks old, that didn’t predict a bright future for me and crying out in loneliness I happened to draw the attention of my lady’s mate. He brought me immediately to my lady and she gave me a warm place and fed me. I decided then and there that I would never be lonely again and I hooked my nails into my new lady and I heard her say to her mate that she was never letting me go if I survived. And of course I was surviving, I had a warm place, right?
Leslie, as my lady is named, didn’t dare to give me a name yet, though, and she called me Little One. Until this day, I’m still named that way. Kinda fitting, I’m rather small compared to the other cats that life here. Those are Puma, the only male, and Spot, another female like me. Being the youngest of the bunch, I make sure that I get all I need, especially the attention of the lady. I mean, there’s no place to sleep as good as sleeping on top of the lady, no matter how much she complains, right?