Just when you thought things couldn’t get any stranger, along comes Pinot Meow–a non-alcoholic, catnip-based wine for cats. The other variety is MoscCATo. Both were created by cat lover Brandon Zavala of Apollo Peak in Denver, Colorado. I heard about this while watching an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher yesterday.
Zavala says, “I originally thought of the idea as a joke with some friends and I just slapped a label of this ‘Pinot Meow’ onto a wine bottle and from that got the idea to actually start something for cats.”
The feline elixir which hit the markets in November 2015 has become an international sensation, and Zavala promises a canine variety will be available in the near future.
Never drink alone again!
Last night while watching TV, Lorin and I heard what sounded like someone snoring. First, I thought it was the sleeping character in the show we were watching (Aquarius, on Netflix), but after the scene with the sleeping person had ended, the sound continued. Was someone sleeping on our porch or outside? What could it be?
I wandered into the dining room and discovered Bernie lying on top of the red hippo blanket (has hippos on it) and purring like a steam engine. The blanket normally sits on the chair in the back right corner of the dining room, but someone had moved it. A few days ago, Bernie started sleeping on the corner chair, which used to be Tisch’s (our deceased kitty) favorite chair.
I put the red blanket back on the chair, much to Bernie’s chagrin, and he quickly dragged it onto the floor again. Then he commenced kneading it and purring loudly.
When I went upstairs to bed, I heard him making strange vocalizations. Perhaps he was talking to the blanket?
This morning I discovered Bernie lying on the floor on top of the blanket. When I approached to him to ask what he was doing, he moved to the head of the dining room table (photo below), as if ashamed or not wanting to take responsibility for his actions.
I assured him that he was not in trouble, but it didn’t seem to matter. I put the blanket back on the chair.
I wonder where I’ll find it tonight.
Update as of July 14: Last night Bernie was dragging the blanket around in his teeth and kneaded it while it was still in his jaws. It seems he was humping it as well.
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.
They put me on a diet
that I don’t like one bit
Mom and Pop want me to slim down
they want me to be fit
Karl lets me eat his food
if they put us together
since they started to feed us separately
I’ve been in quite a lather!
I meow at the top of the stairs
to let Mom know I need food
She ignores my pleas, I rub her legs
how can she be so cruel?
She walks to the human litter box room
why don’t they use ours?
I lunge and nip her ankle
as she goes to take a shower
She turns to look, I run away
She says, “What was that?”
Why, silly, it’s predator vs. prey
A game well-known to cats
Of course, I’d never eat her
She’s much too big for me
but if she thinks I can
I might get more of those treats