The Island of Misfit Toys: The Return of Answer Your Cat's Questions Day

I truly enjoy random holidays. Donut Day - I'll take one! Did you say it was Hug a Ginger Day? I'm a ginger; I'll take a hug. There's a fun Instagram account called "It's a Day Really" you can follow to keep up to date on your random holidays. My favorite of all random holidays is Groundhog Day. Who doesn't love a day that celebrates a weather forecasting rodent? Terrible people, that's who. My second favorite random holiday is "Answer Your Cat's Questions Day." Seven years ago, I stumbled upon this "holiday" because I follow Pee-Wee Herman on Twitter and he shared a post about it. My annual posts answering all of Pumpkin's questions are some of the most popular on the Island. Obviously, with Pumpkin's passing last year, I took a year off. I've been thinking about bringing the post back since I adopted Keely, and decided it's the right thing to do. Pumpkin would want her "brother" to get his questions answered too.

I've been Keely's human for seven months now. It hasn't been an easy seven months; we've gone through a "attack the human" phase, where my legs resembled tenderized meat. Then there was the "sleep on the human's legs" phase, where I developed minor hip issues because I couldn't move at night. Keely's a big dude, so moving him, especially when he's asleep, is a lot. Around month four, we finally hit the "I will cuddle with the human" phase. I don't know what made him decide my lap was his favorite place to nap, but he finds his way to me every evening after work and we cuddle on the couch until he decides he's had enough. More recently, he's moved up to sleep up by my chest rather than on my feet or legs. I think this means he likes me.

This week, Keely got sick for the first time since I adopted him. His left eye got all goopy and he threw up multiple times in one day. I took him to the emergency vet, and left with eye drops, bland cat food, and a cone of shame (which he didn't have to wear thankfully). Watching my big guy suffer and look miserable was stressful; I'm a worrier so I spent the week worrying about him. He used the week to become even more of a cuddle monster and being a very good boy when it came to letting me put his eye drops in (sort of). We need a little fun to end our stressful week, so let's get to Keely's questions.

Where did I come from? Do you mean this in a "where do kittens come from" way or a "how did I end up with you, human" way? Or are you being philosophical? I'd rather not have "the talk" with you (you don't really have boy parts anymore so we're good), so let's go with the second one. I can only tell you two things about your first family: they overfed you and had the good sense to take you to a shelter when they decided they didn't want to be your family anymore. Your destiny was not to be their cat, and that's where I came into your life. I visited the Animal Welfare League of Alexandria on a Friday in June and there you were. I stepped into your cage and you let me pet you and you fell asleep on my hand. Once that happened, I couldn't not take you home with me. So, that's where you came from.
Where do you go all day? Do you get to take naps while you're there? Naps are good, so I hope you get to take naps. I go to a magical place called Herndon. It's where my job is. I have a job so we can afford a place to leave, have health insurance, and you can have treats and toys. I spend my day helping people learn things so they can be the best them at work, going to meetings, and creating the document of the corporate world, the Power Point. No, no napping occurs. Napping at work is generally frowned upon, but I'll let me boss know your concern and see if we can't get some nap time added to the day.
Why am I not allowed on the counters? You know you're not my real mom. Thank you for reminding me I'm not your real mom; that's cool, although not very polite of you. You're not allowed on the counters for one very important reason: the counter you can jump on is right next to the stove. Since my apartment complex thinks a glass top stove is a smart design choice, I don't want you on the counter because you could step on a hot stove if I've been cooking. I don't want you to burn yourself. Also, I prepare my food on those counters, and don't want your hair or your little face in my food. Not everything I own is yours.
What's all the shiny stuff on the floor and the table? Why is it here? Can I roll around in it? The shiny stuff not appearing throughout our apartment is called glitter. Glitter is a magical decorative tool, used to make ordinary things extraordinary. Some people don't like glitter. Those people have no souls. I'm a member of the Mystic Krewe of Nyx this year, and will be in a Mardi Gras parade next month (don't worry, no Mardi Gras tie for you this year). We make glitter purses to gently throw/hand to parade goers along the route. That's why there's so much glitter around. Normally, our house isn't so glitterific. It's probably best if you don't roll around in the glitter. You don't need to be sparkly. I do, however, appreciate how helpful you've been while I decorate my purses.
Is everything I rub my face on mine? It really doesn't matter how I respond to this since that won't stop you from rubbing your face on everything I own, so I'll say yes. I would, however, like to ask if you can refrain from rubbing your face on work laptop when I work from home. You always seem to do it when I'm about to send something important, but aren't quite ready to do so. I'm paranoid you're going to hit send before I'm ready. No one will believe, "my cat sent that incomplete email" even if they know you. Related to this: people food is not cat food. I know the kabobs I ordered on Friday smelled delicious (they were), but they're not for you. You can get sick eating certain types of people food. I saw you try to swipe my pita bread; no bread for you!
Why do you keep putting squirty things in my eye? It makes me want to bite you. In your first few weeks with me, I feel like everything I did made you want to bite me, so why do you need to make such a big deal out of the eye drops? You have conjunctivitis in your left eye and these drops are supposed to make you feel better and keep away another infection. Can you bring back the good boy who let me put these drops in without injury? I'd really like it if he came back...at least until next Wednesday. (Spoiler: we're going back to the vet on Wednesday.)
Where did my treats go? I used to get treats. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have to go on a diet. Apparently, I didn't reduce your food enough/have been buying your affection with treats. You weighed 14 pounds when I adopted you, and have gained two pounds. I'm pretty sure your vet is going to tell me to put you on a restricted diet. I promise we'll find a low calorie treat and you can have one or two on special occasions.
Don't you get that my "biting" and "attacking" are just my way of showing you I like you? Please tell that to my poor legs. I get it, cats think humans are just big, dumb cats, but we're not. I don't have sharp teeth like you do, or murder mittens. (Sidenote: murder mittens is the greatest description of cat claws of all time.) I think you're only playing/showing me that you like about 75% of the time. The other 25% is just your being a viciously adorable animal. Let's agree that you'll keep the injuries to a minimum, and I'll try my best not to be so sad/angry with you when they occur.
Am I a good protector? Should I add to my patrol? Following in your sister's footsteps, you are quite the killer! I was impressed with your fly killing abilities this summer; you're a great jumper and swatter! I was even more impressed when you helped your Uncle Scott dispatch the mouse that snuck into the apartment back in October. Good job! Your patrols seem to be working. Keep in mind the birds and squirrels will be back soon so you'll have to extend your window patrol once they return.
Are you my mom now? It would be a real honor if you thought of me as your mom. I feel like now that we've battled our first illness together and I'm about to be super interested in your weight, it's probably time for you to think of me as your mom, not just your human. But whatever, we don't need labels. I'll love you whether you think of me as your cat mom, human, or that dumb cat who feeds me. You can continue to show your affection however you want and keep the biting to a minimum. However, it is really fun to refer to you as my "cat son" to people who are a little on the judgy side because I don't have human children. It makes me gleeful to watch them not know how to respond when I talk about my cat son.

For the first time in Answer Your Cat's Questions Day history, we're going to have Keely answer a question from one of his many adoring fans. He has the same affinity for IKEA bags as his sister, but has taken his bag love a step further by also "living" in a Target bag on occasion.

How do you choose between a Target bag and an IKEA bag for your vacation home? One of the best things about being a cat is that I really don't have to make choices. My human worships me because that is the way it's supposed to be. Since she makes both IKEA and Target bags available to me on a regular basis, I can enjoy them both. Cats have the best lives. Since you humans need definitive answers here's mine: IKEA bags are much better for long-term commitments. They're roomier, more crinkly, and are better for hiding. Target bags are more short-term, for a quick nap or a little hide and seek while your human finishes unpacking groceries. Now if you want a spa day experience, try a Vera Bradley quilted bag. I might look a little surprised in this picture, and I was, by how comfortable I was in this bag. You won't be disappointed.