Kitten in a basket

Kitten in a basket, originally uploaded by drianwalker.

Monster loves this basket, even though (a) it's clearly too small for him and (b) there's a larger basket right next to it.

Google adverts for weirdos?

Google's adverts are context-sensitive: they scan the page they are appearing on and advertise things related to that page's content, so that people viewing a website see adverts they are likely to be interested in.

Look at the advert I just spotted on this blog. Apparently Google thinks I attract cat deviants. Feed your passion? With hairballs?

A cat's map of the bed

There's a nice post on the excellent Strange Maps blog. This one uses a cat's map of how a bed is laid out as a jumping-off point for interesting facts about cats and a list of famous cats. I'm mentioning it here to allow some blatant pedantry. In the list of famous cats, we see the line:

The Master’s Cat: belonged to Charles Dickens, and would snuff his reading candle to get attention

But let me tell you this, dear reader: In the context of candles, 'snuff' is decidedly not a synonym for 'extinguish': snuffing was actually the process of trimming the wick of a candle, something that had to be done every twenty minutes or so before the invention of the modern self-snuffing wick, which magically shrinks as the wax burns away so that at any given time there are just a few milimetres of wick showing. Prior to this, the wick remained its original length as the candle burned and would eventually flop down onto the table or shelf if left unattended, which was an important factor in so many old buildings catching fire so often. Unless, of course, Dickens's cat was clever enough to nibble the wick to length as a way of getting attention. Now that would be a great cat...

(O'Dea, W.T., 1958, The Social History of Lighting, Routledge & Kegan Paul)

Traditional celebrations - the feline way?

A very professional and reasonably priced glazier arrived this morning with a new pane of glass for our back door. No ordinary pane of glass, this one had a hole so we could fit a cat flap, thus ending months of running around opening and closing the door for our ungrateful little beasts. Hurrah!

However, for some reason Marmot's first response to getting a new cat flap was to run off into the garden and kill a blue tit. Is this a traditional form of cat celebration, a sort of barn-raising party which takes the form of a ceremonial sacrifice? Or is it her way of saying, "At last! Now I can bring dead things into the house any time of the day or night! I hope you don't mind mice on your head at 3 am hur hur hur."?

If killing little animals is a form of celebration, I'm just glad it's not something we humans do. Imagine:

"Susan, your excellent work around here hasn't gone unnoticed: we're going to promote you to Deputy Vice-Head of Marketing (Hertfordshire)."

"That's wonderful news. Excuse me..."

*Squeeeeek*