Quincy and the Bowl of Balls

Quincy and the Bowl of Balls

Hello. My name is Quincy.

I have a confession to make.

I like balls. To be precise, I like the bowl of balls Mom brought home yesterday. Not sure why she got them, but I like them very much.

In this photograph, you can see I am trying to act nonchalant so she doesn’t suspect I’m going to go after them again. I stood on my hind legs and knocked one out of the bowl onto the floor. I didn’t make a sound, but somehow, she found out. I only had a few minutes to bat it around. Then she put it back in the bowl.

Next time, I knocked out a ball and a stick. She must have gotten this bowl of balls and sticks for us to play with. I think she got them for me because I was so well-behaved for the doctor. I didn’t hiss at her even once. She said now that I’m bigger I can see better out of my one good eye even though I’m mostly blind. She said it was like looking out of dirty glasses.

Samson doesn’t seem interested in the balls. You can see him sitting in the background of this photograph on the small sofa.

Mom keeps cleaning and moving things around which bothers us cats: we don’t like change.  She keeps putting new toys on the table, like these orange mats and cloth things to put on them. The best part is not the things inside, but the giant plastic bags they are contained in. I love to chew and lick them. I don’t know why.

Anyway, Mom is at work now, so I have plenty of time to retrieve more balls and sticks and play with them.

Life is good.

A Cat’s Life

Quincy twisting

I twist on the sofa like a pretzel knot,

it’s a cat’s life for me.

I don’t know why you’re so busy, but I am not,

it’s a cat’s life for me.

I supervise as you iron the clothes, mop the floor,

but I never soil my paws.

When you clean the toilet, I sometimes jump in.

You towel me off.

I like to be swaddled,

but then I want to be free.

I slap at the blinds till you open the window,

to observe the happenings in my backyard–

Quincy in window

It’s a good life for me.

Why do you go into the world?

It’s better in here.

We have everything we need:

food, toys, a cup of joe,

a cup a joe

cozy napping places.

Quincy TGIF

I like to go in the yard,


but then

Quince in bag

it’s back in in my bag.

It’s a cat’s life for me.

(all photos by E. Herd)


Zen CD Master

Quincy, CD master

I am Quincy, Master of the CD rack upon which I sit and reign. All who pass this way must pay a toll, and/or give me treats. Temptations are my favorite.

Quincy, CD master 2

I am Quincy, Master of the CD rack, but sometimes I get distracted and watch TV.

The Kitty and the Boot

This is the boot, the boot that protects me when I shower It keeps the foot dry until the stitches come out. It is pumped up like a bicycle tire; then it seals shut directly under the knee.

dry pro cast cover

photo: amazon.com

This is the cat who sensed the boot, and ducked and weaved, like Muhammad Ali. He is blind in the right eye, with 30% vision in the left. His world is dominated by smells and sounds more than sight, even more than the average cat. His name is Quincy.

Pensive Pince

This is the cat who went to check on the boot after I had hung it up to dry.

sammy in tub

His name is Samson. He is Quincy’s best friend. He has checked the bathtub thoroughly and believes the coast is clear.

Quincy continues to scour the bedroom and bathroom, thinking to himself: Where is that boot? Will it end civilization as we know it? How can I be sure we are now safe from it and that it shall not reappear?

Quincy says, “This is my Fortress of Contemplation, my safe house, my shield against all harm. I will be safe here until the boot returns.”

Pince in trash

Sammo and Quincy serious

Quincy and Samson in conference, contemplating their fate and that of the missing boot.

Let me leave you with this kernel of wisdom: Cats who live in trash cans should not throw bones.

All photos (except for the boot) by Erica Herd and L.E. Swenson.


The Cat’s in the Bag

Pince in tote

I sit in the tote bag
and watch the world
although my eyes cannot see.
I feel the vibrations,
smell food and friends
and know everything’s as it should be

I knock over trash cans
and lay in them
sometimes I fall asleep
I huddle in a shopping bag or box–
just about anything

Quince in bag

Q in box

My humans carry me in the basket
up and downstairs
I don’t want to get out,
so I hiss, but I’m not angry

Quincy and laundry basket

I like to pet the Christmas tree,
smell its needles,
and let him know he’s okay.

Quince and tree


(poem by Quincy, photos by his human, Erica)

Hey There, You with the Clouds in Your Eyes


Samson & Quincy & friends

photo: E. Herd – Samson (back), Quincy (front)

I was inspired to post a photo of our cat Quincy after reading about Zeus the blind owl on The Dancing Rest.

Unlike Zeus with the stars in his eyes, my husband says Quincy has clouds in his. Both are beautiful. Quincy wasn’t born blind. We adopted him from a foster through FOCAS.

His foster mom said he contracted an eye infection that went untreated when he was a stray. He has no vision in his right eye and about 30% vision in the left. When we first brought him home in October 2011, he spent a full 24 hours scanning the house. He would not sleep. He memorized the house with his senses. He still loses his footing and trips and falls from time to time, but he knows the layout better than the rest of us.

Because of the blindness, he’s considered a “special needs” cat. A few months after we adopted him, he started having coughing fits, which, after rounds of tests, was found to be caused by tissue damage on one lung and asthma. He has been hospitalized a few times during bad attacks when he could not catch his breath. I’d say he’s lost at least two of his nine lives already. Most of the time we can avoid hospital visits with daily meds and his inhaler—yes, we have a kitty inhaler. Quincy doesn’t let any of this get him down. He’s very happy, playful and loving.

Quincy and me on sofa

Selfie of me and Quincy chillin’

Here’s to all the animals (human and non-) with clouds and stars in their eyes.

Happy Friday, everyone!


Gerard Depardieu, Grave Robber: The Feline Perspective

“We got elegance, if you ain’t got elegance
You can never ever carry it off.”
–Jerry Herman

The Weirdest Celebrity of the Week Award goes to French actor Gerard Depardieu. Currently in tax-evasion exile in Russia, he disclosed in his autobiography Ca C’est Fait Comme Ca (It Happened Like That or That’s The Way It Was) that he was a former rent boy and grave robber and that he drinks 12 to 14 bottles of wine a day. He also claims to be friends with Vladimir Putin. All I can say is: TMI.

Our guest today is feline advice columnist Quincy M. Fuzzman, aka “Quincy,” who will be sharing his thoughts on Depardieu and other matters.

Quincy, Dramaturge

Mr. Fuzzman . . .

Please, call me Quincy.

Quincy, what, if any, are your thoughts on the recent revelations about Gerard Depardieu?

To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought, Erica. I mean, he’s not very well-known in the Feline Community.

I see, but as you are well-versed in film and the arts in general, what is your response? Do you think he should have brought these bizarre skeletons out of his closet?

Frankly, I find it déclassé. I know he had a difficult childhood, what with his mother trying to kill him in the womb with knitting needles and such, but some things are better left unsaid, especially the grave robbing.

What bothers you most about that?

Well, you have to understand that I grew up on the streets as well, so I’m no stranger to hardship. I contracted an eye infection as a kitten, which went untreated and resulted in complete loss of vision in my right eye and 70% loss of vision in the left. Then I developed asthma.  I ate out of trash cans, slept under cars and in garages in all kinds of weather, but I NEVER robbed a grave. Besides being illegal and invasive, it simply isn’t sanitary.

Point taken. And what about the prostitution charges?

You do what you have to when living on the streets.

And the heavy drinking – he claims to drink 12 to 14 bottles of wine a day in order to sleep.

Live and let live, but I don’t see how he’s still alive. We in the Feline Community have a credo, as do most non-human animals, “Take only what you need.” It’s how we survive in the wild. Perhaps he needs to do another film.

Now, Quincy, I realize that Depardieu is not well-known in the Feline Arts Community, but who do you and the rest of the puss world respect and admire?

Hmm. Steve Martin used to be a favorite, until he became an art snob. Of course, Eartha Kitt. Sarah McLachlan, Benedict Cumberbatch and Jackson Galaxy—he really gets us.

Oh, Jackson from My Cat from Hell?

Precisely. As a whole, we are tired of being misrepresented in cinema, popular literature and other forms of media. I mean that horrible movie Cats and Dogs was very damaging to us, and from my point of view, it seemed like anti-cat propaganda.

Can you offer any solutions?

I don’t want to jinx it, but I do have a project in the works.

We certainly look forward to that, Quincy.  Any final thoughts?

Yes. Please support your local no-kill shelters and fostering agencies, and adopt disabled pets whenever possible.

How can our readers contact you if they’re in need of advice or have any questions?

You can email me directly through Suburban Hobo, on the “Contact” page, and I will respond as soon as I can.

Thank you, Quincy, for sharing your thoughts and experiences, and shedding some light on the concerns of your community.

Always a pleasure, Erica.