Time to Recharge!

The holidays get pretty tiring with all the food and wine and family visits. Sometimes a kitty needs to remind his humans that it's time to take it easy.

"Hey, you. You're not going anywhere right now. Just lie here and relax."

Here's to a little R'n'R during the holidays!

Don't Forget About the Animals, Santa!

What do all good kitties do on Christmas eve? They sit tight in their little snuggle beds and wait for Santa, of course! We make sure we've written our letters to Santa making our Christmas requests and then we sit and wait.

What did you ask? What do kitties wish for on Christmas? I don't know about other kitties, but Scruffy and I, we talked it over in advance. And we asked Santa to give all the homeless animals a good family.

Scruffy purred when he heard what our human, Craig Romano, did. Oh, you didn't hear? Craig put up on his Hike of the Week site a hike at the N.O.A.H. Center. He's trying to do his part to alert humans how many animals need a home. We were only a little disappointed that he featured a dog, but we're trying to take the high road. No 3 a.m. belly rub from you, mister! OK, we're mostly trying to take the high road. Come on, we're not purr-fect either!

And Santa, if you're reading this, we could use a little more catnip!

Merry Christmas to all the animals!

Would you like me to inspect that for you?

Aah, the first eating fest has ended. Or the second if you count Halloween. Thanksgiving is over and now it's time to burn those calories (and a whole in the wallet) by shopping for Christmas presents!

What do kitties want for Christmas? Well, I, for one, like to play with cardboard boxes and wrapping paper and catnip. And, Scruffy, well he'd like to play with those things too but he's too arthritic to jump into boxes, so he'll just take extra catnip. On the floor where he can reach it.

Excuse me, I've got to see what arrived in the mail today. I am the package inspector!

(Giuseppe inspects a package to make sure it's safe.)

It's November already? How did that happen?

Whoa! How did November get here so quickly? One minute I was watching all the birds play outside and the next minute I'm listening to Heather make plans for Thanksgiving! Thank goodness I'm a kitty and time doesn't mean anything to me.

Here's to the beginning of the holiday season! Don't forget to schedule some extra time to stay home and snuggle with your kitties (OK, and doggies too). We sense how crazy busy the holiday season is and we want you to remember that we need love too. And, most importantly, petting your kitty/doggy helps you relax.

Bring on the holidays! Santa, if you're listening, this year I want all the kitties to find their forever homes.

Notes from under the bed

I thought all was right with the world. Craig had finished his hiking research for his upcoming backpacking guide and he promised to stay home for a little while. Heather had returned home after a week in Portland. And Scruffy and I were getting used to everything being normal again. Breakfast on time, all four of us hanging out in the living room reading the paper together in the morning, evening treats. The routine was just starting to get re-established.


(Above: Giuseppe inspecting Craig's sleeping bag, making sure it was going back to storage for the winter.)

That's when the ambush occurred. I was sitting downstairs, watching as the dreaded kitty carrier was brought into the house and the door was left enticingly open. Come on - it was obviously for Scruffy. I might be docile enough to let Craig and Heather cut my nails, but Scruffy tries to eat them alive. I know they pay the vet team to endure his attitude so they don't have to. So I had nothing to worry about. I was getting ready to watch Heather attempt to lure Scruffy into the carrier.

But then Heather leaned over (to kiss my goodbye, I was sure) and she picked me up and quickly shoved me into the kitty carrier. What??? When did she become quick as lightening? It must have been all that coffee she drank before breakfast. Dang it! And the next thing I knew I was in the back seat of her car being whisked away to the vet! AAAAH!

In case there was any doubt, I was a brave kitty. Contrary to the rumors, I did NOT drool like a St. Bernard and I did not shake with fear the entire time. And I did not wrap my body around Heather's neck in hopes that she'd save me from the vet. Nope. Do not believe a word of it. I will have to have a talk with Scruffy about those nasty rumors he's been spreading....

Everything will go back to normal, I'm sure it will. But for now, until I'm absolutely sure, I will be hiding under the bed. Just in case.

Things to be thankful for

What am I thankful for this fall? For one, I am NOT the kitty wearing this stupid outfit. Rumor has it the kitty also has a smoking jacket he is forced to wear in public. Would someone please call PETA? This is animal abuse. Definitely animal abuse.

And I am also very thankful that Craig finished his last hike for his backpacking book. Now we can see him again! Of course, right now he's holed up in his office working all hours of the day to finish his manuscript. But at least I can wake him up at 3 a.m. for my belly rubs again now that he's home.

And I'm thankful that it's no longer hot, even though it was not ever hot this year. I still am happy not to have to worry about sweating in my long fur coat. I know, I know, you're all grumbling about what a lame summer it was. Well it's time to get over it and enjoy the crisp fall air and the sounds of leaves crunching under your feet!

Creatures of Habit

OK, maybe you didn't understand what went wrong this morning. Every Friday Heather gets up at 5, well, 5:13 to be exact, and feeds us before she leaves for a run. I know she mentioned last night that she was exhausted and not to wake her early, but come on. Do you really think we can change that easily?

By 5:45 we were in a bit of a panic. "Hello? Anybody awake up there? Why is there no breakfast in our bowls?" Scruffy meowed out (he's been taking over in the vocal department) and scratched the mattress (until Heather smacked him pretty good with her pillow). Me - it's my job to jump up on the bed and sniff out what's going on.

And the report - everyone was tired and wanted us to leave them alone. Sorry. Fat chance! Maybe tomorrow we'll mix things up a little....

Scruffy steals my job

That's him. He looks pretty innocent, doesn't he? "Oh, look at me, I'm an old, rescued kitty and I am so sweet." Ha!

It was MY job to wake everyone up every morning. I had the job perfected. I would walk the headboard behind Heather and Craig and jump on and off the bed. Then I would jump onto the windowsill and bat at the venetian shades until Craig finally got so sick of it, he would get up and glare at me. Worked every time!

But now Scruffy has decided that it's HIS job to wake up the house. He walks stealthily into the bedroom, quietly staring at the bed. Then he makes his move, meowing a little, in hopes that Heather will jump right out of bed (fat chance!). When that doesn't work he will pull himself up onto the mattress (he's too old and decrepit to jump up) and walk back and forth over Heather's body and stare in her face.

But I'M kitty number one!!!!! Hello? Doesn't anyone remember me?

Mountains of Stress

My human Craig is under a ton of stress. A mountain of stress, to be more exact. He's in the middle of two books (one manuscript is finished but there are still maps to create). And he HAS to complete his research for the backpacking book ASAP.

Everything seemed to be going pretty well - there have been no more road wash outs and the snow continues to melt in the mountains. But then last night he was supposed to go on another research trip and suddenly the weather forecast turned bad. Thunderstorms and flash floods, not a good forecast for higher elevation hiking.

(Photo: Here I am helping Craig inspect his book collection.)

Scruffy and I realize that he has to get the research done. But in all selfishness, we were excited to have him home today. Stay home and play with us, Craig! We miss you when you're away! No one else (hint: Heather) remembers to give us our favorite treats every night like you do. And no one else gets up at 3 a.m. to rub my belly until I purr.

We have plenty of catnip and wine waiting for you to celebrate the finished manuscripts (plus maps!) We can't wait!

Declaw the guy!

I was browsing on Facebook today and I noticed a post from a local woman who wrote "I'm still sad about my missing cat." So I started reading the comments and the whole situation just about makes me want to go over to her house and wring her husband's neck.

(Caption: Scruffy teaches Giuseppe some tricks of foraging for food in the wild).

Get a load of this: This woman has had two indoor kitties for 11 years (bless her!). They are declawed (take that previous sentiment back!) and recently her husband decided that they should live outside. So at 11 years old, and without claws to defend themselves or climb to safety, the old kitties were ceremoniously thrown out. And now one's missing.

OK, I can understand that some people don't like cats. Heck, I don't like some people! But to live with the cats for many years (I think the couple has been together longer than 11 years) and suddenly decide to get rid of them seems a touch heartless. And then to get rid of them by tossing them outside, like the trash, well I just don't know what to say. What kind of human being has such a lack of regard for life?

Scruffy and I have voted and it was unanimous: declaw the husband and send him packing to live outside. Sheesh. Who would have such a hardened heart? Luckily, not our humans. (Plus, we made our own key to the front door!!!)

Poor lady. What happens when the husband gets sick of their children? Lady, don't declaw them, just in case!

GOOOOAAAAL!

Scruffy Gray won. Fair and square. It was just like a soccer game, long and drawn out with a lot of posturing and scrambling and changing of positions without gaining anything. But finally, it happened: Scruffy Gray 1, Heather 0.

Heather had arranged a visit with the vet - Scruffers needs his nails cut and his back needs to be shaved. Poor guy, he's so arthritic he can't clean the fur on his back. And no matter how much time Heather spends brushing out the mattes, the fur just keeps getting worse. And on top of that Scruffy has been doing his pirate trick again where he lifts one side of his upper lip funny like he's saying "Grrr, matey!" So the pulled tooth site probably needs to be looked at since the pirate look should have ended months ago after the broken tooth was pulled.

So Heather began by pulling the dreaded kitty carrier out of the garage. Scruffers took one look at it and hid behind the couch. Heather moved the couch and Scruffy ran (limped quickly, really) upstairs. But Heather was quick and had already closed the doors to all the rooms upstairs. Scruffy was trapped. "Should be no problem now," Heather thought. Except that the door to her office wasn't really closed all the way and Scruffy snuck in and hid behind a heavy desk.

Well, after a lot of hiding and trying to lure Scruffy out, Scruffs somehow escaped and ran under Heather's bed. Heather slunk in under it and tried to pull him out. And that's when Scruffy hissed at Heather. But she was determined. So she pulled out the green towel to wrap him up and he lunged at her. And scratched her pretty good all over her hand, enough to draw some blood. And then he hid for the rest of the day.

That was Tuesday and Scruffy has yet to sit on her lap again. He'll sit next to her, but doesn't really want Heather to pet him and he won't purr for her. And every time she walks into the garage he runs behind the couch - just in case.

I don't know what his problem is. I sat in the kitty carrier no problem. In fact, I watched almost the entire game from inside the kitty carrier. Pretty good view and I was guaranteed not to be approached by Scruffy. It was probably the safest place in the house for me to watch the fun.

When Craig's away the kitties will play!

Scruffy looking around: Is that really a bag of kitty food on the floor? Wait - is this a trick? How could I be so lucky?

Giuseppe: I hate seafood. I'll just watch.

Let me just check and see where the kibble is...

There's got to be some food in here somewhere! Oh well, I guess since I'm in here I'll just lick the bag...

Be careful what you wish for

What can I say? Perhaps Be careful what you wish for would be a good place to start. I spent the past two months waiting for the weather to get decent. I have been moping like the rest of you in Washington, done with the rain, the gray, the never ending 60-degree days.

Then suddenly the temperature shot up from 60 to 92 last week. Whoa! I said I wanted nice weather, not heat stroke. And for those of you who may not understand: no one in their right mind would purchase A/C in this part of the country. Why waste your money? For what, one week a a year? So last week we suffered. Scruffy Gray hid under the guest bed all day for 3 days in a row and was so stressed from the heat, the frightening overhead fans whirling overtime and the open windows letting in the sounds of barking dogs that he threw up his dinner all three days.

And me? Come on, I'm a long-haired kitty. Half Maine Coon. Do you think for a second that I enjoy baking in my fur? So we suffered.

But there are many positives that have come from the heat wave:

1. Summer's finally here! Believe me, everyone's mood improved.

2. Now I am happy that it's 60 degrees and gray outside today. I could use a little sun break.

3. The garden is finally taking off! And biggest bonus of them all: I got to go outside and play!!!

With the leash on, dang it.

Tuna

Today was supposed to be a special treat day. Scruffy and I needed a treat, not kitty treats, like we get whenever we do something special or look cute, but a REAL treat.

Why? I think Heather realizes how hard this gray weather has been on us too. We might live inside, but us kitties know when it's gray and depressing weather outside too. We see it in the lack of sunny spots to bask in, we sense it in the humans around us. The weather is getting to everyone, no doubt.

But where was I? Treats! So Heather was making herself a little lunch and dropped a bit of tuna on the kitchen floor. It might not have made a sound, but Scruffy can hear a drop of food hit the ground anywhere in a five mile radius, I kid you not. His head whipped around and he stared at Heather, hoping, praying that for the first time since he's lived here that she would allow him a tiny bit of tuna. And she did! She took the dropped piece of tuna over to him (and walked right past me without even noticing) and he almost ate her finger in his rush to devour the tuna.

So Heather decided I was next. She took a big chunk of tuna, stuck it on her finger, and brought it over to me. I sniffed and walked away. So she placed it in a small cup, knowing that I will not, under any circumstances, lower myself to eat out of a human's hand. And I walked back over, sniffed the cup and attempted to bury it. And that's when she got it: I don't like fish! I don't know how many times I have tried to bury the salmon and tuna dinners she places in front of me, but Heather has never understood that I am just not a fish kitty. Finicky, yes. Fishy, no.

Hopefully that means she'll start buying more of those tasty chicken treats instead... Have you figured it out yet, Heather? And maybe roast a fresh chicken and drop a piece or two on the ground... A kitty can hope!

Pretty Please Mother Nature

I can't take any more rain. Please make it go away. That's all I have to say.

Except I think that everyone who lives out here feels the same.

NO MORE RAIN!!!!

Rain, Rain, Go Away

That's it! I can't take any more of this weather. I don't care if I'm an inside kitty or not, there's only so many days a week I want to stare out at rain. Pouring rain.

Whatever happened to spring and walking outside on a leash with my Craig? Nope, no way. If you think that the two of us are going to stand outside in the cold, windy, pouring rain so I can sniff the tree frogs, you are mistaken. I don't like to get wet. I'm a cat, not a dog.

So, here I am waiting for a vacation. Let's go somewhere sunny, ok? Somewhere with lots of birds to look at and maybe some tree frogs to sniff. I'm packed and ready to go!

The overwhelming "to-do" list

Phew, this Friday's been rough on me and it's not even noon. First, I had to take a well-deserved after-breakfast nap, but Heather and Craig just wouldn't let me sleep. They kept coming over and rubbing my belly and then finally Heather started photographing me, so I knew I had to get up.

I sent Scruffy over to do the laundry while I helped put up Craig's newest Hike of the Week up on his site. So much work for a little kitty! After Scruffy was done warming up the laundry (napping across a pile of Craig's clean shirts), he and I had a long philosophical debate on the nature of stairs. We discussed metaphors and the meaning of life and whether Craig and Heather would bug us less if we napped downstairs on our couches or if we stayed in our snuggle beds.

Hopefully this afternoon will be less taxing, I can't imagine being this busy all day.

Renaming the kitties

Heather swears that if she knew Scruffy well before she and Craig named him she would have called him Bilbo for the old Hobbit. I think that's because she struggled for months to get through the Lord of the Rings and she would enetertain herself by playing with Scruffs in between attempting to finish another page. She says Scruffy Gray looks exactly like she would picture a hobbit creature. Especially when he's on his back playing with his stick (he ate the attached feathers the first day so now it's just a stick).

So I asked her, what would you have called me? I don't think I can tell you Heather's answer. Sigh, OK: Dingleberries. Completely unfair! It's not my fault I'm a long haired kitty! See what I call you when you're not around, lady!

Worn out

I don't know how Heather and Craig do it. With the improved weather they've been on the go constantly and it's all I can do to keep up. Just hearing about their adventures makes me exhausted.

Craig's hiking tons of miles every day trying to finish the research for his upcoming Day Hiking Columbia Gorge book. Every time he calls to report his daily hike, he sounds beat. He even hung up on Heather mid-sentence one night because his mind was toast.

And Heather has a big event coming up - a half ironman - so she's been constantly out running, or swimming at the lake or going for long bike rides. She comes home looking so tired that Scruffy and I have to keep an eye on her to make sure she remembers to feed us before she passes out.

It's enough to make me want to curl up in my snuggle bed and take a long nap. Hmm, that sounds like a great idea! I think I might do that - if Heather's snoring doesn't keep me awake.

My new camera!

I couldn't believe my good fortune today - Heather came home with a new digital camera! I liked the old one, it took decent shots. Though it was hard to operate since I have no thumbs. But the camera was never the same after it rolled off the side of a mountain last fall. (Oops!) I had been trying to convince Heather to buy a new one but she wanted to wait until the old one died. Well, RIP old camera.

It finally passed away last week. Heather was taking photos and the viewfinder showed a grid on the screen and then turned itself off for good. But now we have a new camera (still not easy to operate without thumbs!) and I've been learning all the settings. Here's Scruffy Gray posing for his first portrait on this camera! Ooh, we're going to have a blast with this baby!!!

Meet Scruffy, the Tweaker

I'm not sure who came home with Heather yesterday, but it wasn't the Scruffy Gray I know. That Scruffy Gray likes to sleep all day and lie across Heather and Craig's laps as much as possible.

So who's this guy? Scruffy came back from the vet (after getting a tooth surgically extracted) and was a completely different kitty. According to the post-op info sheet, he was supposed to want to stay in his kennel for a few hours and sleep off the morphine. Uh, no. That's not what happened.

Scruffy was thrilled to escape from his kitty carrier, even though he could barely stand. He was swerving around like a drunk trying to walk from room to room. He fell partially into the litter box and then couldn't figure out how to get out. I watched him trip over his own feet and fall over trying to squat down in front of his food bowl. And his pupils were HUGE. Scruffs finally had to resort to lying on his side to give himself his post-dinner bath because he realized he couldn't have three legs on the ground and stay upright to lick the fourth.

He somehow got the hang of walking up and down the stairs (sideways!) and began doing laps around the house, like he was coming down off of a drug high. That started around 5 last night and here it is 8 a.m. and he's still doing laps.

Scruff's attention span isn't so good, either. Just like a tweaker. "What was I doing? Oh yeah, I was hungry, I'd better beg for some food. Oh, the food bowl is full and right in front of me? OK, I'll eat. Wait, what was I doing? I'm hungry, I'd better ask for some food." Last night Heather sat in front of his dinner bowl and tapped it every time Scruffs forgot what he was doing so he could eat his meal.

Me? Yeah, OK, I admit it, I was glad to see him come home. I was pretty worried about Scruffs. He is my brother, you know. Now, it's time for my post-breakfast nap. Watching Scruffy do all these laps around the house is tiring me out.

Positive thoughts for Scruffy Gray

Thank you for all of your positive thoughts and encouragement. Yes, you know who you are. You people on facebook who told my human that after their kitties had teeth pulled the kitties then hated them. And so now Craig is super freaked out that Scruffy Gray will hate him after tomorrow's procedure.

That's right. Tomorrow Scruffy Gray officially goes under anaesthesia to have two broken teeth removed. Sounds like fun, eh?

Scruffy Gray, I'll be thinking of you. As I'm eating breakfast and taking my nap in my soft snuggle bed. Good luck, ol' boy! I'd have your share of breakfast too, but I'm too busy snubbing my own meals.

The Furless Leader

Oh, really? It's FEARless leader, you say? Well, not in this house!

I know, I should bad for Scruffers. It's not his fault that his arthritis is so bad that he's unable to clean his back. Heather brushes it a lot, but she hasn't wanted to get in too deep because she's not sure how much pain he's in. And finally Scruffers had to go to the vet yesterday and the people told her his matting was too close to the skin to try and clean it up. He was forced to endure multiple shots, a blood draw, an ear cleaning and a partial body shave. Better you than me, old boy!

So, for all of you to see: Scruffy's new 'do!

What part of "I hate everything new" don't you get?

So here I am living the life of a happy indoor kitty, putting up with my cranky brother Scruffers. Life seemed good. Simple, routine, and perfect. What kitty doesn't appreciate a simple routine?

I get up, meow at everyone else to get up, I get fed, I take a bath, run around, take a nap, repeat. What part of this perfect routine says "please change"? NONE of it!

I woke up this morning and Heather attempted to feed me a meal I had never tried before. Where does that fit into my routine? No where. Duh. I ate a little and let her know how angry I was. But Heather must be really dense because she fed me the same stupid thing for dinner.

You realize I don't like change, right? So why are you trying to change my meals? Humans can have all the variety in the world. I'm a kitty. I don't need variety. (Hmm, by that logic, maybe Heather's dad is a kitty too...)

I didn't give in for dinner. I ran away. I ran around in circles and meowed at Heather till I lost my breath. Then I tried to bury my dinner. Finally - two hours later!!! - Heather gave in. She went into the garage and pulled out some of the wet food I like and poured it over the top of my rejected dinner.

OK, I admit it, I compromised and I ate it. I was hungry by then, you know. But I'm still not letting Heather anywhere near me. I sat with my back turned to her at the dining room table so she'd see how angry I was. Am.

I need to learn how to use a can opener.

The hiatus is over!

Phew! That's all I can say for the last month. February was crazy and March was even crazier. I wanted to write and let you all know I am doing OK, but everyone was so busy I had to help out more at home.

Craig has been on the road a lot. It turns out that researching and writing two books at the same time along with frequent book talks around the state and other freelance projects is a lot of work.

And Heather, yeah, same deal. No, she's not researching two books. No, her job has increased in responsibility and time, which she swears is positive. She and Craig keep mentioning that in this economy you're either working like a dog or not working at all. I guess since I'm not a dog that leaves me as "not working."

So my job is to help out when I can. I help inspect the packing and unpacking process for Craig. I help Heather with computer work (she calls it "distracting") and I keep them both on track by making sure they get up bright and early every day. The early bird gets the worm!

As a side note - happy one year anniversary to Scruffy Gray! He came to our home officially last Good Friday. I love you, bro!

It must be a deadline!

All the humans are working like crazy this week! Heather and Craig have their noses to the grindstone (ok, really to the computer) desperately trying to get work done before tomorrow night.

Scruffy and I have tried to play and chase them around but only Heather has been willing to take short (sanity) breaks to play with us. I sure don't envy them! It's days like this I'm glad I'm a kitty. What a life, eh?

(Photo: Are you sure I can't help out? I'm really good at organizing!)

No bull - get a kitty!

OK, I am not sure I understand human behavior. Who would ever think of having a bull as a pet? Can a bull fetch your newspaper and slippers? (Not that I do that, mind you, but I have been known to steal slippers.) Can you take a bull out for a hike or a long run? Is a bull snuggly? No, no and no.

Please folks, do not try this at home. Skip the bull and get a kitty. Or (gasp) even a dog.

(This guy seems to be as unsnuggly as you can get as far as pets are concerned.)

Coroner: Eastern Pa. man killed by pet bull
An eastern Pennsylvania man was attacked and killed by a "temperamental" pet bull a day before his 53rd birthday, the coroner's office said Monday.

The property owners had encouraged Weinhold to get rid of the bull, Straka said. She said the same animal believed responsible for the weekend attack rammed Weinhold last summer, breaking several of his ribs.

Weinhold kept about 10 head of cattle at the farm, all of them as pets. Straka said it's not clear what precipitated Saturday's attack. The bull recently fathered a calf, but Straka said bulls are not as protective of their offspring as cows.

No one witnessed the attack. All of Weinhold's injuries appear to have been inflicted by a bull's head and hooves.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Sigh. It was sunny for almost a week. And in February too! The irises are blooming, the heather plants smell nice, the birds have been seen playing in the yard, and now it's all gone. Back to the gray, dismal and depressing northwest winter weather that makes me want to curl up in my fleece snuggle bed and nap all day.

Don't worry, Heather. You work hard on getting your work deadlines met and I'll nap for you!

What did you say? Oh, it's not Monday? Well, really, what does it matter to me? I'm just a little indoor kitty. Days-schmays, it's all the same to me.

Commando Kitty!

See that small golden circle hanging (annoyingly) off my collar? Well, it's gone now. I've gone commando!

Whenever I feel like Heather has slighted me, I tear off my collar so she knows how I feel: I don't associate myself with you. What has she done this time? Oh, the usual. She didn't take me outside yesterday on the last nice sunny day of the week. (Mark one check against her.) And then she has sent Craig away and he still hasn't come home. (Mark a bold check against her here.)

Scruffers is convinced that she took Craig to the vet and left him there. He won't sit on her lap in case he's next. OK, I know, he's a little odd. And highly anxious. And without Craig around we all get a little depressed.

So it's my job to mix things up a little. Liven things up. And so, I've gone commando!

Beppe Bigazzi is sick in the head

How would you like your kitty served? With fresh herbs, maybe some fresh catnip?

Celebrity chef Beppe Bigazzi upsets viewers with his cat casserole

A top Italian food writer has been suspended indefinitely from the country’s version of the television programme Ready Steady Cook for recommending stewed cat to viewers as a “succulent dish”.

RAI, the public broadcasting network, said that it had dropped Beppe Bigazzi, 77, for offering the recipe on La Prova del Cuoco, which is broadcast at midday on the main channel. Its switchboard was inundated with complaints from viewers and animal rights groups. Bigazzi said that casserole of cat was a famous dish in his home region of Valdarno, Tuscany.

“I’ve eaten it myself and it’s a lot better than many other animals,” he told viewers. “Better than chicken, rabbit or pigeon.” He said that for optimum flavour the meat should be “soaked in spring water for three days” before being stewed.

Elisa Isoardi, the programme’s presenter — who has a cat called Othello — tried to steer Bigazzi off the subject. Reports said that during the commercial break she and the show’s producers tried to persuade him to apologise to viewers but he refused.

Carla Rocchi, the head of ENPA, the Italian society for the protection of animals, said that killing cats was illegal. Francesca Martini, the Deputy Health Minister, said it was “absolutely unheard of for a public service broadcaster to tell people how delicious cats are to eat”. She called for the producers to be investigated for criminal offences involving incitement to mistreat animals.

Bigazzi, a consumer affairs journalist and author of Cooking with Common Sense, has been one of the stars of La Prova del Cuoco for the past ten years. He is noted for his exuberant style and previously caused uproar by boiling lobsters live on the show. Yesterday he said that he had only been joking about the recipe, and he had been misunderstood.

He added: “Mind you, I wasn’t joking all that much. In the 1930s and 1940s, when I was a boy, people certainly did eat cat in the countryside around Arezzo.” Food historians said that Italians in cities such as Vicenza devised cat recipes in times of economic hardship. Inhabitants of Vicenza are still nicknamed magnagati (cat eaters), and in some butchers’ shops rabbits are sold with their heads to assure buyers that they are not cats.

From pet to pot

• In his 1529 treatise on cookery, Ruperto de Nola recommended spit-roasting cat basted with garlic and olive oil. He wrote: “Take the garlic with oil mixed with good broth so that it is coarse, and pour it over the cat and you can eat it for it is a good dish”

• The Spanish expression pasar gato por liebre derives from the practice of hunters trying to sell skinned cats as hares. When butchered, the animals are supposed to look almost identical

• In 2007 Australians at a cooking contest in Alice Springs sought to curb the feral cat population by using them in a dish. One judge found the cat casserole so tough that she had to spit it out

• Last month legal experts in China responded to pressure from the country’s middle class and proposed a ban on eating cat and dog meat. Both are traditional Chinese dishes but if the law is passed people caught eating cats could face 15 days in prison

Giuseppe: Read the story and watch the video of this cruel chef at the UK Times Online. I give the show's programmer credit - she kept picturing her kitty Othello in a stew and looks horrified. Beppe - the Great Depression is over. Even the Chinese have (officially) given up eating kitties.

Gung hay fat choy!

Happy Chinese New Year!

Yay! It's my favorite year in the Chinese horoscope - year of the tiger! OK, I personally wasn't born in the year of the tiger, but my human friend Heather was, and she's super excited. What do I love? The fact that it's the year of the kitty! Kitties everywhere - rejoice! We rule!

The ultimate kitty betrayal

How could it be? I thought we were kitty friends. Best kitty friends (BKF!), in fact. But then, I spotted it - the ultimate betrayal.

Sure, I know I like to drop dookies in Scruffy's kitty box. And he does it to me too. It's just part of the game we call "Turd Wars." But this, dios mio, was downright mean.

Ok, ok, get to the point Giuseppe Gattino. I went to lie down in my fleece snuggle bed and, gasp, someone was already in it. In MY snuggle bed. Scruffy - how could you?

I tried to alert Heather, but she thought Scruffy was missing. She and Craig searched all over the house for him while I stood by their bed meowing my complaint. Finally, Heather looked under the bed and saw a strange sight. Something gray sticking its head out of my snuggle bed. And then - it gets worse! - she started laughing. Ooh, that just made me even more angry.

After a good laugh, and some photos, Craig pulled out the treats to entice Scruffy to get out of my bed. They tried to offer us both treats but I refused. No way. You can't buy your way out of this one. I waved my tail in annoyance and stomped off to Heather's office. When Heather followed me in and brought in those stupid treats I showed her what I thought and tried to bury them in the carpet. Take that, Heather!

But I can't hold a grudge for long. Heather got me some of my favorite treats and brought them to the windowsill where only I could eat them. I enjoyed them and then, when Heather wasn't looking, I ate the discarded treats that Heather threw in Scruffy's bowl. And now that I'm full, it's time for a little kitty nap. But maybe on my throne, since my bed still smells like Scruffy.

Scruffy reads Money magazine

Scruffy, don't despair! You're an indoor kitty now. You can ignore finances and block out the recent stock market decline.

That's right, close the magazine and take a little kitty nap and ignore all the financial bad news....

Gothic kittens? You're kidding, right?

What the ...? How is it possible that a human would consider piercing kittens' ears and necks? We're kitties, not toys!

From the AP: A northeastern Pennsylvania woman is heading to trial on animal cruelty charges for marketing "gothic kittens" with ear and neck piercings over the Internet.

Thirty-five-year-old dog groomer Holly Crawford is scheduled for trial Tuesday in Wilkes-Barre (WILKS'-behr-ee).

Prosecutors say she inflicted pain on the cats to make money. Attorneys for Crawford say she didn't act maliciously.

Crawford's home outside Wilkes-Barre was raided in December 2008 after the SPCA of Luzerne County received a tip that she was marketing the animals online for hundreds of dollars.

Crawford said she used sterilized needles and made sure the kittens were healing properly. She said she wasn't trying to hurt them.

And the next question is: who would pay money for mutilated kittens? Sick and wrong, I tell you.

China enters the modern world?

You know the world has gone crazy when China, where every critter big or small is fair game, considers banning the human consumption of cat and dog meat.

What will be next? Lead-free toys? Untainted prescription products, baby food and toothpaste? One can only hope.

Chinese legal experts call for ban on eating cats and dogs: Widespread and ancient practice of eating dog meat increasingly distasteful for China's growing affluent, pet-loving middle class.

(Photo: Caged cats after being rescued by China Small Animal Protection Association from a market in in Beijing where cats are traded for meat and fur. Photograph: AP)

Scruffy's Story

The time has come. Yes, it's time to share the story of Scruffy Gray. The Humane Society of Skagit Valley has requested stories of animals that have found homes because of the shelter. And it's time for Scruffers to spill his guts. Scruffy, come on, it's time to tell us what happened to you!

I have pen and paper ready and I am preparing to interview him right now - ok, as soon as he wakes up from his afternoon nap. Stay tuned!

Block watch kitty

Someone has to watch out for this house. If it's not going to be the humans or Scruffers, than I guess it will be me. Geesh!

It all started when Heather was on the phone talking to her mom tonight. The doorbell rang a couple of times and someone started banging on the door. Heather ignored it while we jumped a foot into the air. I mean, hello! Why would you interrupt our nap so rudely? But then it happened again - the ringing and pounding at the door.

So what does Heather do? Sets the phone down and opens the door. Didn't look out the window, nope. (Hello? Any brain cells in there?) And that's when she realized there were two strange women who didn't live in the neighborhood at her door. And then I saw it: Recognition passed through her eyes. What if this had been dangerous? I mean, there was that woman just the other day who answered her door and two guys forced their way in and tried to rob her. (But her dog bit the guy and the ran off.)

What was Heather expecting? That Scruffy would hiss them to death? Luckily Heather was very assertive and scared the strangers off so I didn't have to go after them. Who knows what they were doing, anyhow. They were pretending to sell magazines, but it was a complete scam.

Are they casing our neighborhood? Checking out the houses to see who has an attack kitty? Just so you know I have very sharp nails and I will use them. And I am the neighborhood block watch kitty, so just you try and come back. I'll be staring out the window watching for you.

Mid-afternoon ramblings

I am so upset I can barely enjoy my nap. How can I be an indoor kitty, with all the food, love and toys I could ever want while there are people starving in Haiti? The unfairness is eating away at my conscience.

Not that I'm unhappy with my lot in life. No, quite the opposite. I love my life as an indoor kitty. I love Craig and Heather and my buddy Scruffy Gray. I love my bowl and my fleece snuggle bed and my yellow mid-day napping chair in the living room. And my toys.

But I'm having a hard time staring at photos of people who are obviously living in extreme poverty, suffering even more than they were in everyday life. Look at them. Roads, buildings, lives - completely destroyed. And yet, here I am, getting ready for my afternoon nap and the most difficult thing I have to do is decide where to spend my afternoon.

I guess the only thing I can do is feel thankful for what I have.

The unwanted bath

Demoralizing. That word sums it up pretty well.

I know, I am not a snuggly, play-with-strangers and sit-on-your-lap type of kitty. No, I realize I come across as aloof to newcomers. To everyone but Craig and Heather. But it doesn't mean that I don't have a heart.

I admit it. Heather and Craig's leaving for almost two weeks completely stressed me out. What would you do if the people you loved and saw all day every day suddenly packed their bags and kissed you goodbye? How was I supposed to know they were coming back?

Scruffy Gray took it all in stride. He was sure they would return, but me, well, I'm a sensitive kitty. And so the day after Heather and Craig came home, my stomach did the whirlies. I tried to make it to the kitty box on time, but alas, I failed.

But the worst part was when Heather and Craig "inspected" me for cling-ons and forced me into a lower body bath. Oh man! I ran downstairs to escape their overzealous towel drying when Scruffy saw me and laughed at my sopping wet tail.

I hope tomorrow starts off better.

New year, same old routine

Us kitties never follow calendars. Why would we? It's not like we ever have to be somewhere on a specific date. And if we do (the vet), I don't want to know about it ahead of time, that's for sure!

January, shmanuary, it's all the same to us. Here's Scruffy Gray following his new year's resolution: to get enough sleep.

Happy whatever date to you!