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Trump wants to shrink and/or eliminate marine sanctuaries.

Kamala Harris on Twitter:

“Something you’re not hearing in the news – this Administration is “reviewing” whether to shrink/eliminate some of our marine sanctuaries.”

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Wooden Cat

What is this kitty doing on top of a pile of firewood?

  1. Kitty wants humans to turn the heat on
  2. Kitty wants to be acknowledged by humans
  3.  Kitty wants humans to make him a new bed




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Cat takes selfie, while peeing inside a laundry basket

Ultrasonic feral cat repellent


Do your cats also take selfies while they pee in your laundry basket?

This is not the first time I see a cat-selfie. They are so full of themselves that they even evolved to make use of technology and rule over us from a desk or a phone, somewhere.

Does your cat take selfies or appear in funny photos?

Sign up as a blogger and post your cat photos and videos on our blog, under your own name, for all the catosphere to enjoy.



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Tweet: Congratulations @elverojaguar on your beautiful #kitty #CatsOfTwitter #RealHouseCats

Feel free to congratulate @elverojaguar in the comments. They will love to know that you love their cat(s).


If you are the proud owner of this beautiful cat (or shared the content), your love of cats might have just gotten stronger.

Don’t forget to subscribe to our blog for more REAL HOUSE CATS, and to make certain that you will receive all the congratulations on your beautiful cat(s).

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10 Great Cat Quotes to Share

Isabella's paw


Time spent with cats is never wasted.




Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.




The real lover of cats is one who demands a clearer adjustment to the universe than ordinary household platitudes provide; one who refuses to swallow the sentimental notion that all good people love dogs, children, and horses while all bad people dislike and are disliked by such.




Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are God. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are God.



Isabella, as a kitten, in her previous home.


Those who’ll play with cats must expect to be scratched.




There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.




Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.




No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.




Once I was gone for a month and I was just miserable, so I flew back from Florida for two hours just to be home and see my cats.





Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.



Isabella's paw
High Five Isabella for more cat quotes.
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Cat rides dog into the sunset

cat rides dog
See Cat ride on Pinterest.

Dear Subjects, Both Furry and Bald:


I have a story for you. It’s about my cousin, Cinnamon, and her little white pony, I mean dog –

“Achoo!” (Azeara wriggles her nose and looks elsewhere)

Are you laughing at me? She gives Azeara a demon stare.

Azeara tries to hide her big blue eyes and paws Terri who is rolling on the floor.

Stop ignoring me! This is serious cat history!

All three cats look uncomfortable.

So…. My red-striped cousin, she dreamed of being a Cowgirl. She wanted to ride, ride, ride the pony into the sun.


The other cats look skeptical.

No really. She lived in the suburbs in a big white house, with a huge luxurious lawn and the best smelling garbage you ever found.

Isabella’s mind wanders and her tail slowly undulates.

“Mrow?” says Terri.

Right, yes. Where was I?

Oh, yes, Cinnamon. She wanted to be a cowgirl. She really wanted a pony, a nice black one with a flowing mane to grab hold of, but she only had a dog. The dog was very small and white and little, mmm, slow? No, er – mentally challenged shall we say. But very fast.

She trained him soon after The People brought him home. Well, training is a little too nice. More like chasing. She chased him morning til night through the house and even around the yard. But she wouldn’t just chase him, she did this thing where she would grab his, his…

She looks at Terri and smiles toothily.

His butt!


Terri perks up and listens more closely, after all, butts are his thing.

So she grabbed his butt with her paws and latched on, or tried to… At first they just ran through the house and yard, round and round, back and forth. Terrified (excited?) dog and determined cat: click click click, clackety, clackety, clack.

The People were horrified and did a lot of shouting, but nothing could stop them. Not until supper when they both dropped in a puddle panting, crying for the humans to bring sustenance.

What? No, that isn’t it. Quiet, Terri!

Many weeks passed, then it happened. She landed her first paw, secure and fully latched. But only One! What followed wasn’t pretty. Imagine a small white dog running full speed, a red-striped cat attached , dangling by one paw, dragging behind him like a water skier about to do some trick. She was sliding on her feet a few milliseconds, wildly trying to latch her other paw, but then the dog TURNED.

She screamed “Woah!” in cat, but the dog only understood dog. And so she was pulled behind him, dragged backwards on her butt until – Well, the rest is so undignified I won’t recount it, but I can report a photographic finish.

Isabella fishes a tiny white smart phone from her massive layers of fur, click, swipe. She shows them a picture.

She sent this, my cousin. Those are her broken claws.

She swipes right.

There is the little dog, with a big bald spot where she latched on!


Azeara and Terri stare not moving, their eyes as wide as saucers.

Don’t worry, they’re both fine. They even tried it again, as soon as the bald spot grew back.

Isabella clicks off the phone and stows it back inside the nether regions of her fluffy belly.

In fact, within another few months, Cinnamon and ( I forget the dogs name), mastered the art of latching both paws. She slid around behind the dog like she was on skis mushing through the wilds of Alaska, only she was on her feet and there was no snow. Maybe more like water-skiing. But the foot surfing got old after she wore through a few good paw pads –

Hey, I saw that. Really, I swear on the head of the little mouse in the corner that I will eviscerate shortly… “Hiss!”


Well, anyway, it got old. So she tried three paws. Just like in a rodeo, the bucking horse thing – what, not familiar? Like this.

Isabella mocks a cowgirl on a bucking bronco, waving her paw in the air.

“Meow?” Terri interrupts.

No, he hadn’t turned into a bucking bronco! Boy, you really are… “Grrrr.” Pay. Attention.

The dog was bucking, the cat was up and down, legs dug in, one paw holding fur, the other pointed to the ceiling, flapping back and forth as he bucked beneath her. Ride ’em cowgirl! Yeee. Haaaw! And sometimes you’d see a red fuzzy ball go flying (the little dog won!), but usually she could stay on top for at least a few seconds.

Then one day, as she bounced up and down on the dog, he started spinning in place. He’d discovered his tail for the umpteenth time of the day. And, she got dizzy. So without thinking she put down her other paw, dug her back claws in and suddenly – Vroooom! Away the went, cat and dog sailing through the open door, as one they moved, avoiding the pink snakey hands grabbing. Around the corner they raced, red ears laid flat, white ones streaming in the wind. Some say they heard Cinnamon say, “Aye-O Silver, and away!” as they galloped into the sunset.

No, Azeara, that isn’t hyperbole, they really did. It was glorious. Perfect!


They had the best time ever, or at least Cinnamon did. You can never tell with dogs, they’re always smiling. I think the humans enjoyed it, even with all the shouting and grabbing, ’cause they posted pics.


This one (link to it or embed it or say above) is right when Cinnamon landed that first paw, before the embarrassing part.

There were photos of that embarrassing part too, and the ride outside, but Cat-o-nominous made sure no eyes will ever see them. You see, evidence that cats can ride dogs, that would be dangerous. It would have brought in the humans, those creepy People in Black, and all the fans and prospective minions foaming at the mouth, and then the regulations! Well, that couldn’t happen, so Cat-o-nominous just took care if it. So nobody, except us cats, will ever really know the truth.


“Meow??” Azeara and Terri chime.

I don’t know who they are, but they seem very nice. They protect “the Greater Cat,” so I salute them! Just so long as they understand: I AM THE GREATER CAT; and they better stay out of my cyber-cat-space if they know what’s good for ’em.

So, sweet furry and bald subjects, that is the story of Cinnamon and how she proved that with determination a cat can do anything… Oh and when cats ride on dogs, everything seems right with the world.


Your Empress, 




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Senior cat gets adopted for advertising in the shelter

Senior cat gets adopted


Read below for a cat-story based on the article, as described by a cat.

Senior  Cat-ospondent, Azeara, here.


I’m gonna tell you about my buddy Sienna and Old Cat Adoption. Sienna is a senior cat like me. She’s a Big beautiful thirteen year old tuxedo kitty with long black and white fur. Not as beautiful as myself, of course, but she’s quite cute. Actually, she would scare the bejeezus out of me if she were ever to corner me in some dark… Wait What was I saying? Oh, yes. She’s also very fit and sharp. Not as smart as Isabella, but pretty smart.

These days Sienna’s life is pretty darn good. But for a while there life was downright depressing for Sienna, because after thirteen wonderful years her person had died. Sienna was all alone in the world and she was very sad and very lonely at Tabby’s Place, a cat sanctuary in Ringoes, New Jersey. She’d been dumped there by Mommy’s evil relatives, after she died and couldn’t protect her anymore.

She missed her mommy. Her person, a very good human who had treated Sienna right, was all she thought about.

Sienna had had it good before. Cat Heaven. Big soft pillows and lots of sunny spots, slow moving cool hands stroking her and giving her treats, and always kisses. Sweet kisses she would ask for with a raised paw. Her life had been one long sweet lazy summer filled with endless love and attention. And she’d been a good sweet loving kitty, never a whine or a hiss. All was perfection.

Report continues after

Tragedy Strikes Sienna!

And then, one morning, suddenly, her person was gone. She’d looked for her, she’d called, but there was no response. No breakfast in her bowl. No scritches on her head. And Death was in the air. Silence. Something was very wrong. She’d found her, still in bed, cold and a little too white.

Sienna sat on Mommy’s chest and tried to warm her, sniffing mom’s lips to feel her breath. But there was none. She tried meowing, at first soft, politely asking: Mommy? Wake up please. But soon her pleas grew louder, more alarmed: please MOMMY I’m hungry. Pleeaaase Mommy I’m getting scared. Wake up! Pet me!


Maybe this was a test, Sienna thought. She meowed sweetly, “ I’ll be your good sweet kitty?” Purring and snuggling under Mommy’s chin didn’t work either.

Was Mommy mad at Sienna? Had she been forsaken?


Sienna started meowing desperately. Please Ma! Ma! Maaaaaaaa! Why wasn’t she moving or breathing? Something was starting to smell… that awful wonderful smell of freshly rotting meat, just waiting to be eaten. No. Mommy? Meow? Sienna sniffed her mom again. She was the rotting meat.

Ok, no. I know what you’re thinking (🍴) , but no. She didn’t. Of course there were very disturbing and confusing feelings. Feelings Sienna fought, even as her tummy rumbled between her and the meat. But she’d sat there, slept there. She’d guarded her person. Her meat.

She didn’t know what else to do.

Betrayal ! 🕵

Then the other people came. At first she’d been relieved. Over joyed really. And they did feed her. But there was no affection, though she’d made sure to “own” them immediately. They didn’t seem to understand. In fact they treated her like a dumb animal and didn’t even have the courtesy to say “hello” before they grabbed her and stuffed her into that scary box with a handle.

She’d tried to object. She’d screamed and for the first time in her life hissed like she really meant it and then tried to scratch and bite a human. She’d been so scared, so shocked. So mortified. Everything she’d known was swept away, her last view of her only universe was seen through a row of squares, glittering against the darkness as her body swung back and forth in the moving prison.

She was Terrified. Nothing made sense.

And then they’d brought her to Tabby’s Place and left her in a warm room with many cat cells, but no other cats. It was lonely. And boring. The beds were nice, but the food was horrible. And though some of the people bringing her food would stop to pet her, she grew weary with the lack of attention. Days and weeks went by and the loneliness only grew. Her only hope was that someone would come pet her, even if only for a few minutes. She’d spend hours staring at the large transparent wall, waiting for another human to appear, hoping to be stroked.

Would she ever be kissed again?

So many people looked in at her, but they all had empty eyes and many said “too old” and kept walking. But she tried to be brave. Every time she heard more coming, she’d jump up and dash to the wall so they’d see her waiting. She tried to look extra cute. One day she even put her paw up on the glass and meowed. It seemed to get some attention, so she kept doing it. Every day she ran to the window, looking sadder and of course cuter  ( Not as cute as me, by the way, but… ).

And everyday she’d go to sleep alone in that warm dark room.

Report continues after

Sienna’s Persistence Pays Off.

But then her new person came. She smiled so big when Sienna trotted to the see through wall. And  her paw trick really pleased. So she meowed. And a miracle happened. The lady put her hand on the glass over her paw and looked at her with big squinty eyes, laughing. Her heart almost burst with love and happiness. And her hope grew, to maybe think of kisses and soft pillows, while her heart thumped in her throat.

Frantic when the lady walked away she wondered, can a cat feel suicidal? Well she did. But a little while later, the lady came back. Cooing to her, calming and gentle, she came inside with the food person. Sienna knew something wonderful was about to happen. Then the lady picked her up and cuddled her and Sienna latched on, never to let go. And her new person took her to her new home: to soft pillows and big sun spots, and of course many kisses. All was perfection once more.

See? What a happy ending. Senior cats matter! Hey, we’re already trained. You can put an end to the nightmare and be a Cat Hero.

Adopt a senior pet today! They will thank you in kisses.




Read the original article.

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Why Does My Cat Sleep On My Head?

Why does my cat sleep on my head?

According to at least one cat behaviorist, there are several causes as to why your kitty decides to sleep on your head, and they are very conventional.

1. Our heads release heat.

External sources of heat allow cats to maintain their basal metabolism without much effort, which lets them rest more.


2. Our heads move less than our legs.

This way, your cats expect not to be kicked out of the bed in the middle of their sleep.


3. Our proximity makes cats feel safe.

Cats in the wild also look for safe places, where they be alerted early of intruders.





Read the original article.