Furry Cat Quotes

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Cats are the lap-dancers of the animal world. Soon as you stop shelling out, they move on, find another lap. They're furry little sociopaths. Pretty and slick -- in love with themselves. When's the last time you saw a seeing-eye cat?
Andrew Vachss (Safe House (Burke, #10))
There is probably no better or more reliable measure of whether a woman has spent time in ugly duckling status at some point or all throughout her life than her inability to digest a sincere compliment. Although it could be a matter of modesty, or could be attributed to shyness- although too many serious wounds are carelessly written off as "nothing but shyness"- more often a compliment is stuttered around about because it sets up an automatic and unpleasant dialogue in the woman's mind. If you say how lovely she is, or how beautiful her art is, or compliment anything else her soul took part in, inspired, or suffused, something in her mind says she is undeserving and you, the complimentor, are an idiot for thinking such a thing to begin with. Rather than understand that the beauty of her soul shines through when she is being herself, the woman changes the subject and effectively snatches nourishment away from the soul-self, which thrives on being acknowledged." "I must admit, I sometimes find it useful in my practice to delineate the various typologies of personality as cats and hens and ducks and swans and so forth. If warranted, I might ask my client to assume for a moment that she is a swan who does not realzie it. Assume also for a moment that she has been brought up by or is currently surrounded by ducks. There is nothing wrong with ducks, I assure them, or with swans. But ducks are ducks and swans are swans. Sometimes to make the point I have to move to other animal metaphors. I like to use mice. What if you were raised by the mice people? But what if you're, say, a swan. Swans and mice hate each other's food for the most part. They each think the other smells funny. They are not interested in spending time together, and if they did, one would be constantly harassing the other. But what if you, being a swan, had to pretend you were a mouse? What if you had to pretend to be gray and furry and tiny? What you had no long snaky tail to carry in the air on tail-carrying day? What if wherever you went you tried to walk like a mouse, but you waddled instead? What if you tried to talk like a mouse, but insteade out came a honk every time? Wouldn't you be the most miserable creature in the world? The answer is an inequivocal yes. So why, if this is all so and too true, do women keep trying to bend and fold themselves into shapes that are not theirs? I must say, from years of clinical observation of this problem, that most of the time it is not because of deep-seated masochism or a malignant dedication to self-destruction or anything of that nature. More often it is because the woman simply doesn't know any better. She is unmothered.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés (Women Who Run With the Wolves)
And the kittykats would have to erect scaffolding and a pulley to get him down. Mind you, I wouldn't put that past them. Sometimes when they are behind the sofa supposedly purring, I think they are drilling.
Louise Rennison (Startled by His Furry Shorts (Confessions of Georgia Nicolson, #7))
Cats were often familiars to workers of magic because to anyone used to wrestling with self-willed, wayward, devious magic—which was what all magic was—it was rather soothing to have all the same qualities wrapped up in a small, furry, generally attractive bundle that looked more or less the same from day to day and might, if it were in a good mood, sit on your knee and purr. Magic never sat on anybody’s knee and purred.
Robin McKinley (Spindle's End)
Sekhmet crawled onto Ramses's lap and began to purr. 'The creature oozes like a furry slug,' said Ramses, eyeing it without favor.
Elizabeth Peters (Seeing a Large Cat (Amelia Peabody, #9))
But when he drove down the mountain and knocked on Elaine's door, she was the only one there. Well, her and the cat. As soon as Elaine opened the door, the furry little bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, 'Dickbag.
Erin Sterling (The Ex Hex (The Ex Hex, #1))
And if that hadn't been enough, the castle cat, obviously female and obviously in heat, had sashayed in, tail straight up and perkily curved at the tip, and wound her furry little self sinuously around Adam's ankles, purring herself into a state of drooling, slanty-eyed bliss. Mr. Black, my ass, she'd wanted to snap (and she liked cats, really she did; she'd certainly never wanted to kick one before, but please— even cats?), he's a fairy and I found him, so that makes him my fairy. Back off. -Gabby's thought on Adam
Karen Marie Moning (The Immortal Highlander (Highlander, #6))
Church!" Emma scooped him up in her arms, and Church did what he usually did. He went limp. "Is that cat dead?" Diana demanded. "No, he isn't," Emma cooed, and kissed his furry face. Church went limper. "He just hates affection.
Cassandra Clare (Queen of Air and Darkness (The Dark Artifices, #3))
Recruit your pet as a study partner. Cats are usually more than happy to do this - in fact, you may have trouble keeping them off keyboards and books - and dogs will often serve as well. Few things are more relaxing than having a warm, furry creature next to you as you study.
Stefanie Weisman (The Secrets of Top Students: Tips, Tools, and Techniques for Acing High School and College)
The mice were furious." [...] "Oh yes," said the old man mildly. "Yes well so I expect were the dogs and cats and duckbilled platypuses, but..." "Ah, but they hadn't paid for it you see, had they?" "Look," said Arthur, "would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?" [...] "Earthman, the planet you lived on was commissioned, paid for, and run by mice. It was destroyed five minutes before the completion of the purpose for which it was built, and we've got to build another one." Only one word registered with Arthur. "Mice?" he said. "Indeed Earthman." "Look, sorry - are we talking about the little white furry things with the cheese fixation and women standing on tables screaming in early sixties sit coms?" Slartibartfast coughed politely. "[...] These creatures you call mice, you see, they are not quite as they appear. They are merely the protrusion into our dimension of vast hyperintelligent pandimensional beings. The whole business with the cheese and the squeaking is just a front." The old man paused, and with a sympathetic frown continued. "They've been experimenting on you, I'm afraid.
Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, #1))
people who hated cats were often control freaks who felt the world owed them a living.
Tom Cox (The Good, The Bad and The Furry: The Brand New Adventures of the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
I view his furry storage tanks – what can a man think about while looking at a cat’s nuts? Certainly not the sunken navies of great sea battles.
Charles Bukowski (On Cats)
Is that cat dead? Diana demanded. ''No he isn't,'' Emma cooed and kissed his furry face. Church went limper. ''He just hates affection
Cassandra Clare (Queen of Air and Darkness (The Dark Artifices, #3))
I got him a cool gift. I got him a pack of razors, and a really furry dead cat.
Jarod Kintz (If you bring the booze and food, I'll bring the thirst and hunger)
Being able to walk through walls or disappear weren't the only skills my cats had. They seemed to have an uncanny ability to, well, solve crime. They were like two small, furry Sherlock Holmeses.
Sofie Kelly (A Tale of Two Kitties (A Magical Cats Mystery, #9))
Jokes about Crazy Cat Ladies seem harmless enough, but at their core is a disturbing echo of the hysterical witch superstitions of the Middle Age.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
As soon as I open this door, I'll be free. FREE! No more goofy cats screaming in my face and eating my shoes. No more biting and scratching and chasing me down the street. Outside this door is a big, wonderful world where goofy cats don't turn into furry whirlwinds that hit me on the head with a spatula. And soon I will be a part of that world once again!
Nick Bruel (Bad Kitty vs Uncle Murray: The Uproar at the Front Door)
A female feline named Katta Is getting fatta and fatta But she's pretty and purry And funny and furry So what does an ounce or two matta?
Lilian Jackson Braun (The Cat Who Went Up the Creek (Cat Who... #24))
Oh, Hank," Susan whispered, "their wings are furry." "Oh, James," Harriet whispered, "their hands are kind.
Ursula K. Le Guin (Catwings (Catwings, #1))
I’d like touch screens better if they were furry, like cats.
Jarod Kintz (This Book Has No Title)
Children are like cats, only less useful and less furry.
Mark Lawrence (Red Sister (Book of the Ancestor, #1))
It wasn’t taking the trip well; cats seldom did, being little furry Republicans with an in-built aversion to change.
S.M. Stirling (Dies the Fire (Emberverse, #1))
She opened the door within two seconds of his pressing the doorbell, letting out a stream of cats that ran around with such rapidity and randomness of motion that they assumed a liquid state of furry purringness. The exact quantity could have been as low as three or as high as one hundred eight; no one could ever tell as they were all so dangerously hyperactive.
Jasper Fforde (The Big Over Easy (Nursery Crime, #1))
There is Normal Society and then there is the Abnormal Freaks Who Deserve Our Public Pity and Private Ridicule Society. The first is the world of good jobs and Christmas shopping and marriages and vacations and the scent of new cars. And then there is that other world, the world of the glazed eye, of people who chant at the moon and spout conspiracy theories and get sexually aroused by furry animal costumes. Some dress all in black to carry out vampire rituals and others col ect cats until they’re a furry shoulder-to-shoulder flood on every floor of the house. The Abnormal travel among the Normal and leave behind them a trail of sickeningly awkward conversations and stifled laughter, of hidden smirks and rolled eyes. And worst of all, pity.
David Wong (John Dies at the End (John Dies at the End, #1))
If you’ll just sit and pet your cat - or somebody’s cat - find a cat, for God’s sake! Find a cat! Or anything furry - and let it train you into a frequency that will cause you to allow enlightenment.
Abraham Hicks
Humans are a force of nature—we are, in some senses, THE force of nature—and we influence animals whether we intend to or not. So the real question, going forward, is not WHETHER we should shape animals’ bodies and lives, but HOW we should do so—with what tools, under what circumstances, and to what end… Unless we plan to move all humanity to Mars and leave Earth to rewild itself, we may need to help our furry and feathered friends survive in a world that has us in it. As Kraemer puts it: ‘I’m of the persuasion that we are changing the habitat of wildlife so rapidly that we may have to help those species evolve.
Emily Anthes (Frankenstein's Cat: Cuddling Up to Biotech's Brave New Beasts)
They suggested that if you really want to hold a koala but can't, just get a furry pillowcase and fill it with lightly used cat litter. Or tie a bunch of sedated raccoons together. Or maybe hold a dead koala.
Jenny Lawson (Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things)
She opened the door within two seconds of his pressing the doorbell, letting out a stream of cats that ran around with such rapidity and randomness of motion that they assumed a liquid state of furry purringness.
Jasper Fforde (The Big Over Easy (Nursery Crime, #1))
Cats have been all over the Internet for many years. This makes total sense, as they seem to spend half their lives trying to stand and sit on the keyboards of our laptops.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
If you’ve never seen a squirrel cat before, picture a mean-faced cat with a big bushy tail and thin furry flaps of skin between his front and back legs that let him glide through the air in a fashion that somehow looks both ridiculous and terrifying.
Sebastien de Castell (Shadowblack (Spellslinger #2))
They had an audience. A furry, purring little thing who flicked a crooked tail back and forth while holding out a paw to be licked. A cat with one eye. An eye for porn.
Juliana Stone (Offside (The Barker Triplets, #1))
People have a habit, in the age of cameraphones and social networking, of being a bit too quick to turn all sorts of experiences into a ‘memory’.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
A brick could be used as a pettable non-furry and non-meowing cat.

Jarod Kintz (Brick and Blanket Test in Brick City (Ocala) Florida)
My cat stood still like a furry statue. I wanted to go pet it, but I ended up petting a painting instead. Ah, but that’s life, no?
Jarod Kintz (Ah, but that's life, no?)
I like the idea of cats. They're cute and funny in those wacky YouTube videos when they scoot across the floor on their bellies like furry ninjas or pop out of boxes.
Samantha Verant (The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique)
A blanket could be used like a cat, if it were furry and purred.

Jarod Kintz (Brick and Blanket Test in Brick City (Ocala) Florida)
One can imagine that if humanity suddenly disappeared from the planet, the cat would shrug its shoulders, raise its tail, and return to its forest habitat, there to live as its ancestors have done for two million years, forever in search of something small, furry, and squeaky to play with.
Eric Chaline
And Throgmorten’s arched ginger body came flying out of the creepers like a furry orange boomerang and landed slap in the basket. Christopher was deeply impressed – so impressed that he was a bit slow getting the lid down. Throgmorten came pouring over the edge of the basket again in an instant ginger stream. The Goddess seized him and crammed him back, whereupon a large number of flailing ginger legs – at least seven, to Christopher’s bemused eyes – clawed hold of her bracelets and her robe and her legs under the robe, and tore pieces off them. Christopher waited and aimed for an instant when one of Throgmorten’s heads – he seemed to have at least three, each with more fangs than seemed possible – came into range. Then he banged the basket lid on it, hard. Throgmorten, for the blink of an eye, became an ordinary dazed cat instead of a fighting devil.
Diana Wynne Jones (The Lives of Christopher Chant (Chrestomanci, #2))
I sat back, staring into space, so preoccupied that I stopped patting Spike. I was reminded of my primary duty by a furry head butting against my chin. “Sorry, your highness.” I smiled at the cat and resumed justifying my existence.
Dennis E. Taylor (We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Bobiverse, #1))
Meet my cat, Felipe. I should probably mention, he doesn’t like strangers.   *   Understatement of the year. The gigantic, furry, striped monster with saber teeth and red glowing eyes was her cat? “Holy fuck, woman. He’s the size of a bloody car.
Eve Langlais (A Demon and His Witch (Welcome to Hell, #1))
No, they’d strike without warning, turning from a cuddly creature into a furry ball of insanity. That was just how the little cat rolled. You never startled them. You never cornered them. You never touched their food. And you never fed them after midnight.
Suzanne Wright (Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack, #4))
IT WAS BEDTIME and Adam was at the back door, calling the cat. ‘Chiiiiips! Chiiiii-ips! Come on, Chips!’ Catherine smiled to herself. Chips always made Adam beg. She never begged. She called, he came, or she locked him out for the night. Simple. Chips knew that, and always shot in from the garden like a furry white arrow. But he had Adam wrapped around his little claw, and wouldn’t come in until his own personal human had been thoroughly humiliated – whistling, wheedling, and shaking the box of treats like Barry Manilow on the maracas.
Belinda Bauer (Snap)
Did I keep you awake?” “No. Your cat turned into a furry ninja, determined to claim my face as its ultimate resting spot,” I said and then laughed. “I finally surrendered and let the lil’ monster win. I guess I can add ‘professional cat pillow’ to my resume now.” “Sorry. He’s done that since he was a kitten.
Kayla Cunningham
There were twenty-three females on the Keltar estate--not counting Gwen, Chloe, herself, or the cat--Gabby knew, because shortly after Adam had become visible last night, she'd met each and every one, from tiniest tot to tottering ancient. It had begun with a plump, thirtyish maid popping in to pull the drapes for the evening and inquire if the MacKeltars "were wishing aught else?" The moment her bespectacled gaze had fallen on Adam, she'd begun stammering and tripping over her own feet. It had taken her a few moments to regain a semblance of coordination, but she'd managed to stumble from the library, nearly upsetting a lamp and a small end table in her haste. Apparently it had been haste to alert the forces, for a veritable parade had ensued: a blushing curvaceous maid had come offering a warm-up of tear (they'd not been having any), followed by a giggling maid seeking a forgotten dust cloth (which--was anyone surprised?--was nowhere to be found), then a third one looking for a waylaid broom (yeah, right--they swept castles at midnight in Scotland--who believed that?), then a fourth, fifth, and sixth inquiring if the Crystal Chamber would do for Mr. Black (no one seemed to care what chamber might do for her; she half-expected to end up in an outbuilding somewhere). A seventh, eighth, and ninth had come to announce that his chamber was ready would he like an escort? A bath drawn? Help undressing? (Well, okay, maybe they hadn't actually asked the last, but their eyes certainly had.) Then a half-dozen more had popped in at varying intervals to say the same things over again, and to stress that they were there to provide "aught, aught at all Mr. Black might desire." The sixteenth had come to extract two tiny girls from Adam's lap over their wailing protests (and had stayed out of his lap herself only because Adam had hastily stood), the twenty-third and final one had been old enough to be someone's great-great-grandmother, and even she'd flirted shamelessly with the "braw Mr. Black," batting nonexistent lashes above nests of wrinkles, smoothing thin white hair with a blue-veined, age-spotted hand. And if that hadn't been enough, the castle cat, obviously female and obviously in heat, had sashayed in, tail straight up and perkily curved at the tip, and would her furry little self sinuously around Adam's ankles, purring herself into a state of drooling, slanty-eyed bliss. Mr. Black, my ass, she'd wanted to snap (and she liked cats, really she did; she'd certainly never wanted to kick one before, but please--even cats?), he's a fairy and I found him, so that him my fairy. Back off.
Karen Marie Moning (The Immortal Highlander (Highlander, #6))
Cats always land on their feet.
Jessica Kara (Furry Faux Paw, A)
Cats are living, breathing blankets. But a blanket, no matter how furry, cannot be used like a purrless cat.

Jarod Kintz (Blanket)
Cats hate doors for the opportun ities doors deny them to do exactly what they please, but they love them in equal measure, due to the opportunities they present to make humans their snivelling slaves.
Tom Cox (The Good, The Bad and The Furry: The Brand New Adventures of the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
Cap’n is the cuddliest cat this side of the rabbit hole. He’s like a furry lump of clay, because no matter what position you put him in, he’ll stay there and purr and then fall asleep. I could fold him up and stuff him in a Chinese to-go box, and he’d not even meow once in protest. This works great, because instead of snuggling with leftover chicken lo mein, I now fall asleep with Cap’n curled up next to me.
Jarod Kintz (Gosh, I probably shouldn't publish this.)
...I discovered a small kitten in the garden, which apparently had been abandoned by its mother. I picked it up and noticed that its hind legs were crippled in just the same way as Tsering's were when she died. I took this creature into my house and looked after it until eventually it was able to walk. Like Tsering, she was also female, but very beautiful and even more gentle. She also got along very well with the two dogs, particularly Sangye, against whose furry chest she liked to lie.
Dalai Lama XIV (Freedom in Exile: The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama)
In the middle distance, a looming giant with the head of a lion, shaggy with black fur, with cat claws instead of hands, reaches into a cage and plucks out a wailing, flailing sinner, dangling him by his hair. In the same manner you might nibble grapes from a bunch, the demon’s lips close around the man’s leg. The demon’s furry lion cheeks sink inward, hollowed, and the man’s screams grow louder as the meat is sucked from the living bone. With one leg reduced to hanging bone, the demon begins to suck the meat from the second leg.
Chuck Palahniuk (Damned (Damned #1))
I’m all for choice in death. If you want to be buried with no animals, you should have that. If you want to be buried with animals, you should have that. More places than you’d expect have animals-getting-buried-with-people on the legislative agenda. So yes, it’s not out of the question that you and your furry friend could be buried together, running hand-in-paw on that great big hamster wheel in the sky. No matter what the local laws say, there may be a funeral director who’s willing to sneak your pet’s ashes into your casket. Not me, of course. Next question.
Caitlin Doughty (Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs?: And Other Questions About Dead Bodies)
Behind her, at the back of the tube, she heard a scrabbling noise. She turned to see a whitish-grey Siamese cat hurtle out of an open doorway and collide with the ladder. The cat caught the ladder with its claws and then, with practiced ease, sprang off the rungs and launched itself toward the other end of the shaft. Kira watched, impressed, as the cat soared along the ladder, turning slightly as it flew, a long furry missile armed with teeth and claws. The cat glared at her as it passed by, venomous hatred flashing from its emerald eyes. “That’s our ship cat, Mr. Fuzzypants,” said Trig.
Christopher Paolini (To Sleep in a Sea of Stars)
Floyd arrived in the kitchen and leapt onto Casper’s back, then proceeded to start biting his neck. I’m an only child with a smallish family who had never done Christmas in a big way, but there was something about having two male cats tenderly humping in the corner of the room that made the occasion a little more festive.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
The concept of furry characters (another term for anthropomorphic animals) is relatively new; it was popularized in the 1980s. But art and stories juxtaposing humans and animals can be traced back thousands of years. The ancient Egyptians, for example, had animalistic deities such as Anubis, who had the head of a jackal. Anthropomorphic kimono-clad foxes, raccoons, dogs, cats, and other animals were a recurring subject in classical Japanese uikyo-e artwork. Further historical examples of anthropomorphic animals can be found in Native American mythology and works of literature like Aesop's fables, wherein talking animals took the roles of humans.
Jared Hodges (Draw Furries: How to Create Anthropomorphic and Fantasy Animals)
Alone in her anxieties and insecurities, alone in the tyranny of her mind, but also simply, literally, physically alone, her only companion an oversized, paraplegic cat who dragged himself around the apartment like a mythological creature, his front half leonine and furry, his hindquarters shaved bald, for he no longer had the flexibility to groom them.
Joanna Rakoff (My Salinger Year: A Memoir)
Fuzzy Britches was not an immediate success with Lowell. "Where's its legs?" he said darkly. "If it's a Martian, it ought to have three legs." "Well," argued Castor, "some Martians don't have legs." "Prove it!" "This one doesn't. That proves it." Meade picked Fuzzy Britches up; it immediately began to buzz—whereupon Lowell demanded to hold it. Meade passed it over. "I don't see," she remarked, "why anything as helpless as that would have such bright colors." "Think again, honey lamb," advised Hazel. "Put that thing out on the desert sand and you would lose it at ten feet. Which might be a good idea." "No!" answered Lowell. "'No' what, dear?" "Don't you lose Fuzzy Britches. He's mine." The child left carrying the flat cat and cooing a lullaby to it. Fuzzy Britches might lack legs but it knew how to win friends; anyone who picked it up hated to put it down. There was something intensely satisfying about petting the furry thing. Hazel tried to analyze it but could not.
Robert A. Heinlein (The Rolling Stones)
I told such a man the other day that I had got a Canada lynx here in Concord, and his instant question was, “Have you got the reward for him?” What reward? Why, the ten dollars which the State offers. As long as I saw him he neither said nor thought anything about the lynx, but only about this reward. “Yes,” said he, “this State offers ten dollars reward.” You might have inferred that ten dollars was something rarer in his neighborhood than a lynx even, and he was anxious to see it on that account. I have thought that a lynx was a bright-eyed, four-legged, furry beast of the cat kind, very current, indeed, though its natural gait is by leaps. But he knew it to be a draught drawn by the cashier of the wildcat bank on the State treasury, payable at sight. Then I reflected that the first money was of leather, or a whole creature (whence pecunia, from pecus, a herd), and, since leather was at first furry, I easily understood the connection between a lynx and ten dollars, and found that all money was traceable right back to the original wildcat bank.
Henry David Thoreau (The Journal, 1837-1861)
Cats were often familiars to workers of magic because to anyone used to wrestling with self-willed, wayward, devious magic—which was what all magic was—it was rather soothing to have all the same qualities wrapped up in a small, furry, generally attractive bundle that looked more or less the same from day to day and might, if it were in a good mood, sit on your knee and purr. Magic never sat on anybody’s knee and purred. Cats were the easiest of the beasts for humans to talk to, if you could call it talking, and most fairies could carry on some kind of colloquy with a cat. But conversations with cats were always more or less riddle games, and if you were getting the answer too quickly, the cat merely changed the ground on you. Katriona’s theory was that cats were one of the few members of the animal kingdom who had a strong artistic sense, and that aggravated chaos was the chief feline art form, but she had never coaxed a straight enough answer out of a cat to be sure. It was the sort of thing a cat would like a human to think, particularly if it weren’t true.
Robin McKinley (Spindle's End)
Michael held out one hand and made a "come here" motion. "Turn." Without taking his intense focus from the open sea ahead, he swiftly unfastened the safety harness, then swiveled her face front and worked the closures on the jacket. Cold air bathed Tally's wet clothing and already chilled skin. His fingers felt warm through the wet cloth of her shirt. "Th-thanks." Instead of feeling cold, she felt a rush of heat and stepped away. All this fear and adrenaline rushing around inside her was screwing up her normal, logical self. Her response to the man was as unexpected as it was intriguing. Apparently, by the look on his face, he hadn't felt anything. "Get below," he said, voice grim, jaw set. He moved about on bare feet. Moved fast, but efficiently. "Should I take your cat with me?" "Don't have a cat." The black furry thing right in front of him blinked. "What's that?" "Snap to it, sweetheart. We've got about seventeen minutes before the tail end of that typhoon hits us." Tally almost smiled at the precision. "Exactly seventeen minutes? How could you possibly know that?" "Want to stand there and debate it with a stopwatch?" "No. What can I do to help?" She had to shout, and even then she wasn't sure he'd heard her. "Told you. Below.
Cherry Adair (In Too Deep (T-FLAC, #4; Wright Family, #3))
You’re a talking cat?” Endora asked with a look of disbelief on her face. “My, my, my, aren’t you the bright bulb of the bunch,” he replied with a bit of snarky smugness. “Tell me then, bright-bulb, do you suppose that I need your permission to talk just because I’m a cat?” He raised his paw to his face, admiring his newly gnawed manicure. After he observed the last nail, he slapped his paw down on the floorboards, making a low thud sound. “Because I don’t,” he smirked. Endora was taken by surprise at his rudeness. She stared back at him, speechless and not quite sure how to respond. “Are you a magic cat?” Mila busted in with a question that seemed as silly to her as to the cat. He glared and narrowed his eyes at her. “A magic cat,” he said, standing up to arch his furry back. “Is my talking some sort of magic to you? If it is… then I am.” He stretched his back higher and let out a long purr that turned into, “Purrhaps, you four little witchy girls should clearly refine your meaning of magic so you know what it means before you say the word magic.” “I rather am quite fond of talking cats,” Selena said with a big smile. “Of course, you’re the first one I’ve ever seen.” The cat narrowed its eyes tighter. “Indeed,” he said, letting out a yawn as if the whole conversation were a bore. He leapt off the porch and dash away, mumbling and grumbling his way down the corridor. Selena looked over at Endora. “Rude little snot, isn’t he?” she said.
Sophie Palmer (Abracadabra: Witchy Poo U)
According to the official numbers, shelters take in somewhere between six million and eight million dogs and cats every year and euthanize about half of them. And this is an improvement. While it was back in the 1970s that the HSUS began trying to raise awareness
Steven Kotler (A Small Furry Prayer: Dog Rescue and the Meaning of Life)
Excerpted From Chapter One I decided staying put in the alley was preferable to keeping the dead guy company, so I went outside and lit a Lucky Strike. The night air had gotten damper and chillier during the short time I was in the warehouse, or maybe it was just me. Wisps of lacy fog were now sinking into the alley, and a skulking cat in search of dinner moved slowly along the opposite wall until he noticed me. He scurried off in a furry blur, eager to be far away from the evil invading his domain. The cat had better sense than me and I wished I could follow his example.
H.P. Oliver (Pacifica)
Q: How do cats greet each other at Christmas? A: A furry merry Christmas and happy meow year!
Arnie Lightning (Christmas Jokes: Funny Jokes Christmas for Kids)
With practice, you began to recognize entire words by themselves. C-A-T became simply cat, thanks to a mental representation that encoded the pattern of the letters in that word and associated that pattern with both the sound of the word and the idea of a small, furry animal that meows and often doesn’t get along well with dogs. Along
K. Anders Ericsson (Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise)
One of the good things about cats is that, unlike dogs, they don’t come up to you in the street and try to have sex with your leg.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
Despite the cat’s inability to handle sugar, most major pet food manufacturers use rice or other grains in their meals. “This may be why cats are getting diabetes,” Brand offers. “Cat food today has up to 20 percent carbohydrates. Cats are not used to that—they can’t handle it.
Scientific American (Our Furry Friends: The Science of Pets)
The cat had begun to clean its whiskers. Sophie caressed its back again, drawing her fingers along until they met the sharp furry crook where the tail turned up. The cat’s back rose convulsively to press against her hand. She smiled, wondering how often, if ever before, the cat had felt a friendly human touch, and she was still smiling as the cat reared up on its hind legs, even as it struck her with extended claws, smiling right up to that second when it sank its teeth into the back of her left hand and hung from her flesh so that she nearly fell forward, stunned and horrified, yet conscious enough of Otto’s presence to smother the cry that arose in her throat as she jerked her hand back from that circle of barbed wire. She pushed out with her other hand, and as the sweat broke out on her forehead, as her flesh crawled and tightened, she said, “No, no, stop that!” to the cat, as if it had done nothing more than beg for food, and in the midst of her pain and dismay she was astonished to hear how cool her voice was. Then, all at once, the claws released her and flew back as though to deliver another blow, but then the cat turned—it seemed in mid-air—and sprang from the porch, disappearing into the shadowed yard below.
Paula Fox (Desperate Characters)
We all love our cats and try to find best products for our furry friend. Cute litter box will guide you what qualities a litter box should have and how to find best suitable litter box for your cat according to her needs. We will also guide about other accessories which a litter needs for better performance.
Cute Litter Box
If word ever got out that her sources all have whiskers, a furry tail and a propensity for licking their own genitalia, she'd probably be front-page news herself.
Nic Saint (Purrfect Murder (The Mysteries of Max, #1))
Kevin chuckled and walked over to his bike. He put up the kickstand and grabbed the handles. It was time to head home. “Nya.” Blink. “Nya?” “Nya.” Blink. Blink. Kevin looked at the wall near the distribution building—and nearly squealed upon spotting the small, cute, adorably furry animal sitting on its haunches. A black cat with big yellow eyes stared at him. Its tail swayed behind it, moving left, then right. It opened its mouth, releasing another one of those utterly endearing, if unusual, “nya” sounds. This cat reminds me of the one that I took home with me when I was in elementary school. It even nyas. How cool is that? “Kitty!” Like a child who’d just seen a new toy on Christmas Day, Kevin dropped his bike and went over to the cat, whose large incandescent orbs had yet to leave his face. He reached the feline in record time, and his hand was quick to descend upon its head. The cat didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, it reveled in the attention, purring as he gently scratched behind its left ear, which twitched with minute movements.
Brandon Varnell (A Fox's Vacation (American Kitsune, #5))
See, squirrel cats, with their tubby feline bodies, big bushy tails, coats that change colour depending on their mood and furry flaps that stretch between their front and back limbs enabling them to glide from the treetops (or ‘fly as well as any gods-damned falcon’ as Reichis would insist), can – if you stare at them, squinty-eyed, from a distance and preferably through a drunken haze – look almost cute. They’re not. Puppy dogs are cute. Bunny rabbits are cute. Poisonous Berabesq sand rattlers are cute to somebody. Squirrel cats, though? Not cute. Evil.
Sebastien de Castell (Crownbreaker (Spellslinger, #6))
Overhead lights flickered on, off and back on again. They’d done that for the past hour. Crap. More stuff for the contractors to fix. One candle guttered in the draft, and September mentally added window caulk to her list. She prayed the electricity wouldn’t go out, since the backup generator in the garage would take finagling to find, let alone to start. She added a dollop of flavored cream to her cup, and replaced the lid that kept Macy’s paws at bay. The longhair sable and white cat sat like a furry centerpiece on the rose-patterned glass table. He mewed in frustration when September set her covered mug next to the muffin saucer he’d already licked clean. A white paw patted the cup’s lid. September plopped into one of four wrought iron chairs, and pulled the mug out of the cat’s reach. “Nope, I know where you put your feet.” Macy
Amy Shojai (Lost And Found (September Day, #1))
Mort looked at the cat and sighed. “Oh, sure. Professional ectomancer with a national reputation as a medium tells you what’s going on, and nobody believes him. But let a stump-tailed, furry critter come in and everyone goes all Lifetime.” “Heh,” said Sir Stuart, quietly amused. “What did I tell you? Cats.
Jim Butcher (Ghost Story (The Dresden Files, #13))
Where’s the pizza?” Something warm and furry came and leaned against my right leg. I reached down to pet Rocky, a black lab who was going gray around his eyes and muzzle. “Rocky wants to know where the pizza is, too.” “He’s the reason the food is in the kitchen. Last time we kept it out here on the picnic table, he helped himself to half of a large bacon pepperoni pizza and then he threw up in my mom’s closet. She was cleaning dog barf out of her shoes for days.” I squatted down and rubbed Rocky’s ears. “I bet you were framed, huh, buddy?” He leaned into the ear rub and sighed. “I bet it was the cat, wasn’t it?” He sighed again like he was agreeing with me. “Nice try, but there isn’t that much barf in a cat,” Trevor said.
Chris Cannon (Boomerang Boyfriend (Boyfriend Chronicles, #3))
She left the room, with her black-and-white kitty, Ruff, Elizabeth, Naiad and Persephone- a spotted gray-and-white shorthair- following on her heels in hopes of getting breakfast. As for her other two cats, she knew they must be out hunting rodents and birds rather than waiting to go down to the kitchens with everyone else. Burr and old Henry, who had climbed with a stiff gait out of his basket, joined the furry entourage, tails wagging and tongues lolling as they descended the stairs. The Scotties were probably asleep in the nursery, happy to wait to see what tidbits the children would sneak them during their breakfast in another hour or two.
Tracy Anne Warren (Happily Bedded Bliss (The Rakes of Cavendish Square, #2))
Charles, a footman who had once worked on his father's farm and who loved animals, appeared and came over to help her prepare dishes of boiled chicken and brown rice for the cats and dogs waiting eagerly at their feet. When guests were staying, Charles often assisted with the care of her furry brood. Without asking, he set to work, even taking a few moments to gather fresh meat scraps for Aeolus, her wounded hawk, and cut-up apple and beetroots for Poppy, a convalescing rabbit who had an injured leg. He gave her several more apple quarters for the horses, who got jealous if she didn't bring them treats as well. Once all her cats and dogs were fed, Esme set off for the stables, laden pail in hand, Burr trotting at her heels. She stopped along the way to chat with the gardener and his assistant, who gave her some timothy grass, comfrey and lavender to supplement the hay she regularly fed Poppy.
Tracy Anne Warren (Happily Bedded Bliss (The Rakes of Cavendish Square, #2))
My big furry cat sprang off the ground and made an elegant landing—right on my crotch. Wincing, I grabbed Lucullus around his fat belly and set him on the bunk next to me.
Manel Loureiro (Dark Days (Apocalypse Z, #2))
When I open my eyes, Fido is at the foot of my bed, licking his paw. He drags it over his furry face, then behind his ear. He stops his post-meal bath to stare at me, a disdainful look in his beady yellow eyes. This is the end to my Saturday night. My cat has watched me whack off to a vision of my best friend. “Don’t say a word,” I hiss. He looks away, lifting his chin haughtily. But he’ll keep my secret. I’ll keep his, too, the fucking little voyeur.
Lauren Blakely (Big Rock (Big Rock, #1))
My girl’s all curled up in a furry gray ball, fast asleep. I guess it would be mean to wake her up just because I want to cuddle with her. I guess that would make me a bad cat parent. With an anxious attachment style. Maybe kittens and therapists should stop being so fucking cute if they don’t want me to adore them so much.
Kayley Loring (Attachment Theory (The Brodie Brothers, #2))
He didn't move or discourage Archibald from kneading and clawing his right boot when the enormous Maine coon strolled in from the pantry. The animal was like black smoke with gold eyes. A furry mystic with large, tufted paws and ears. Legend and lore surrounded the cat. Some stories were amusing, some mere fantastic flights of fantasy, and others actually plausible.
Kate Angell (The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine)
woman’s neck engraved with runes. The mysterious woman was floating in midair in a lazy, reclined position as if she were relaxing on a French settee. “A woman!” Alister instantly began to panic, and took a step back. That’s when two furry, purple cat ears appeared on the top of the woman’s head, followed by a purple
KuroKoneko Kamen (Handsome and the Yeti (Genderbent Fairytales Collection, Book 1) (Twisted Fairytales Collection))
According to one narrative, an elderly couple spent the first night in their new home lying awake in terror, as they waited for the approach of domavoi. Not only might he have bad news for them, but it was well-known that he had a nasty habit of trying to strangle the people that he visited. The old woman screamed in terror as she felt something heavy and furry land on her chest, only to discover that it was the family cat! But on further reflection, the couple decided that the cat was the domavoi on this occasion, and that as its fur was soft and warm, good fortune would follow.
Cherry Gilchrist (Russian Magic: Living Folk Traditions of an Enchanted Landscape)
china eyes and furry countenance confront the nymph’s large eyes—gray eyes that now are black, for she with controlled agitated glance explores the insect’s face and all’s a-quiver with significance. It is Goya’s scene of the tame magpie faced by crouching cats. Butterflies do not need home advice. As though the admiring nymph were patent-leather cricket singing loud or gnat-catching garden-toad, the swallow- tail bewitched and haughty,
Marianne Moore (New Collected Poems)
Instead, help your new kitten to associate cars with fun, happy experiences instead of just trips to the vet. The process, called desensitization using classical conditioning, takes patience and time, but works whether your kitty acts scared, sick, or just hyper. Use A Crate. For safety's sake, kittens and cats must ride inside a carrier while in the car. A loose pet becomes a furry projectile in case of an accident. The driver needs to concentrate on the road and traffic, not the bouncy baby on a lap or under the pedals. Even well-behaved cats loose in the car could be injured, because an airbag will crush the crate and pet if on the front seat during an accident. So be sure to crate train the cat before you hit the road. Let Him Explore. Even though he'll be inside a crate, it's helpful for kitty to experience positive things about the car before you start the engine. Cats are sensitive to environment and territory which is why they prefer staying home in familiar surroundings. So once the cat carrier is securely in the closed car, sit beside your cat and open the carrier door. Allow him
Amy Shojai (Complete Kitten Care)
Were you ever lucky enough to watch a cat closely as it falls, Emil? Arthur asked. It always lands on all fours. First, a cat orients herself - you need a head and eyes for that. Then she sets her front paws in case the ground comes sooner than she expects, and in between, if she's still got the time and the space, she arches her back - then, she curves her spine and drops like a furry parachute. She takes the fall in phases. When she's coming down she lets all the parts of her body absorb the fall, including her tail - that serves as a rudder, so that it will be the softest possible landing.
Arnošt Lustig (The House of Returned Echoes (Jewish Lives))
Unlike RiverClan,” Berrynose sneered. “They must do nothing but eat. They’re more like fat, furry fish than cats!
Erin Hunter (Eclipse (Warriors: Power of Three, #4))
The Action Figure Militia interrupted the philosophical issues of cat girls versus dragon girls and the dividing line between the racially exotic and the taboo furries.
Hunter Mythos (Apocalypse Comedy: A Dungeon Crawler LitRPG Adventure (Gravity And Divinity System 1))
What's your beef with cat's, anyway? It's pathological." "They're furry little serial killers who can give you brain-eating amoebas from their poo, but that's not my point.
J.T. Geissinger (Ruthless Creatures (Queens & Monsters, #1))
I love being around pet lovers. People brave enough to lower their walls and admit that the joy they get from their furry friends is sometimes far more plentiful than what they receive from humans. I realise I feel very at home here, with people like me.
Dawn O'Porter (Cat Lady)
The Wolf didn’t notice. “What difference does it make if I’m furry or not?” He pointed at Heather, and the look in his eyes made it clear he expected an answer. “Aaaaahhhh,” she said, glancing at Monty. “Weeeellllll. When my mom takes a nap, our cat curls up with her, and my dad doesn’t care. But I don’t think he’d like it if the cat suddenly turned into a man.” “Why?” Simon demanded. “The cat would just be a cat in a different form.” Heather made a funny sound and didn’t answer. Monty quietly cleared his throat before he said, “A form that would be able to have sex with a human female.” “I didn’t want sex!” Simon shouted. “I just wanted my share of the covers.
Anne Bishop (Murder of Crows (The Others, #2))
At Catsmandoo, our love for furry friends drives us to create top-notch products that enhance the lives of cats and their devoted owners. As passionate cat lovers ourselves, we're as picky as our feline companions, ensuring every offering meets the highest standards. We're not your typical big corporation – we're a small family business dedicated to the well-being of our furry friends and their human companions. Our innovative products are not only human-approved but also cat-certified.
Catsmandoo
And she’s so many cats you’ll wade through them like a furry river.
Nora Roberts (The Choice (The Dragon Heart Legacy, #3))
And she’s so many cats you’ll wade through them like a furry river. The Choice (The Dragon Heart Legacy, #3)
Nora Roberts (The Choice (The Dragon Heart Legacy, #3))
Some dogs can be caught by allergies due to seasonal plants. And, your furry friend can manifest these allergies in the form of skin issues. In general, you can find your dog itching more than usual, this includes licking or chewing their paws, excessive sneezing, rubbing their face and ears, or outright scratching. Even some springtime plants such as rhododendron and azaleas can be toxic and life-threatening for your dog, make sure that you don’t have such plants in your garden. Moreover, if your dog is showing the symptoms of allergy, consult your vet. Most of the dogs love this season and you can find them extremely excited to go out and explore. In this excitement, your cat or dog can take their nose closer to bees or other insects and can be stung. Allergies and reactions can differ from one dog to the other and it is advisable to act fast to avoid further complications. Get in touch with your vet and explain the symptoms. Birds can be readily available for your cat Cats are, without a doubt, opportunistic hunters and they can eat a wide variety of critters such as birds, rats, mice- just to name a few. If your cat is allowed outside, you can try these tips so that your kitty doesn’t bring some birds to your doorsteps. Fastening a bell to your cat’s collar can provide birds with early warning and they can fly away before it’s too late. If your cat is well-fed, it can help reduce the urge to hunt. If you feed birds, don’t feed them on the ground, elevate bird feeders enough that your cat can’t reach or give the birds sufficient time to realize the threat. Keep your dog up-to-date on medication These pesky insects and parasites can emerge when the ground becomes wet and soft. Make sure that your dog is up-to-date with all the required medications including flea and tick medications. If your dog gets a tick, you can wear gloves and grab the tick closer to your dog’s skin. Ensure that the grip is not too hard, pull up in swift movements. Now, disinfect the bitten area and wash your hands thoroughly. The bottom line Spring is a wonderful season and providing you are aware of these common tips, there’s every chance it will be a happy and healthy one for you and your pets too. If you find these tips useful, please share them with others.
Donald
Emmy loves every aspect of mowing – the shoes, the rev of the engine, the pats on her furry head, chasing sticks and getting extra attention – but most of all, she loves the company. I seldom enjoy mowing – it is tedious, and often hot and grueling – but thanks to our dog Emmy, I do love one thing about it, the joy it brings to each other! – David Warren in the story My Dog Mows Best
Amy Newmark (Chicken Soup for the Soul: Life Lessons from the Cat: 101 Tales of Family, Friendship and Fun)
She shoved me out of the bed! The realization hit him as hard as the floor. His feline grace failed him. Far from hanging its head in shame, his inner lion rolled in mirth, tufted tail practically wagging. Not funny. Except it was. He had a feeling this more assertive side of Arabella was his fault. Since the moment they’d met, he’d encouraged her to not take any shit, and apparently she’d decided to start with him. Dammit. When he’d told her to not let the world stomp all over her, he should have specified his exemption. I’m her mate. Isn’t there a rule that says she can’t kick me out of bed? Except she’d yet to realize what he had. Was it only a day ago since his life changed? Not even. At this rate, he’d be picking out fucking China patterns by noon. Completely emasculated and by a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. Flipping to his knees, he sat up and rested his chin on the mattress. Arabella faced him, eyes wary, breathing shallow as she waited for his reaction. More like she waited to see if he’d explode. She’d learn. Hayder would never harm her, but he would use his infamous kitty-cat eyes against her. He stared. You know you want me. You know you need me. Come on, baby. Melt. Melt for your lion. She stared right back. Hmm, this wasn’t working as planned. He let the left side of his lip curl into a grin, tugging his cheek and popping his infamous dimple. “I know what you’re doing.” “What?” “Trying to manipulate me into letting you back into bed.” “Is it working?” For a moment her expression shifted, a quick flip of emotions as she struggled to answer. “Yes it’s working. But I wish it wasn’t.” “Why? Why fight it?” “Because I think I need time.” It turned out there was something more powerful than his dimple. Her honesty. He groaned. “I think you were sent to kill me. Fine. If you insist, I’ll respect you even if I’d rather debauch you.” Her eyes widened. “Respect doesn’t mean I’m going to lie, baby. I want you. Bad. But I’ll listen to what you want. For now.” And, yes, he said it ominously. Let her think about it. Think about him. Soon even she wouldn’t be able to deny they were meant for each other. He stood, all six foot plus naked feet of him. And, yes, that did put a certain part of his anatomy in perfect view of a certain shocked gaze. A sucked-in breath, cheeks that darkened, a certain awareness sizzling between them. She couldn’t hope to hide her pleasure or interest in what she saw. “Sweet dreams, baby.” He winked and then turned, resisting an urge to catch her staring at his ass. He knew she was. He could feel the crazy heat as she traced his path out of the room. Go back. Want to snuggle. His lion couldn’t understand why they were back in the living room with its cramped couch that wouldn’t allow him to stretch out. Why couldn’t they snuggle in the nice warm bed and, even better, cuddle with a nice warm mate? Respect, my furry friend. A lion had no use for respect though. His worldview was much simpler. Ours. Bed. Hungry. Not hungry for a steak but, rather, a sweet, creamy pie. Hayder groaned. No need to keep reminding him of what he was missing. He knew. He hated it, but her wants had to take precedence over his. Argh.
Eve Langlais (When a Beta Roars (A Lion's Pride, #2))
Cats. Furry little sociopaths that we invite into our homes.
Jenna Inouye (Why Do Cats Knock Things Over?: 33 Bizarre Cat Behaviors -- Explained!)
Some were drawn towards displays of physical showboating, when it came to cats, while others preferred subtle intellectual stimulation.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
There’s also something about ageing and the concomitant awareness of the fleeting nature of existence that tends to make you less worried about being ridiculous, and less judgemental about the quality of ridiculousness in others.
Tom Cox (The Good, the Bad and the Furry: Life with the World's Most Melancholy Cat and Other Whiskery Friends)
So the Ukraine came to resemble “one vast Belsen.” 93 A population of “walking corpses” struggled to survive on a diet of roots, weeds, grass, bark and furry catkins.94 They devoured dogs, cats, snails, mice, ants, earth-worms. They boiled up old skins and ground down dry bones. They even ate horse-manure for the whole grains of seed it contained. Cannibalism became so commonplace that the OGPU received a special directive on the subject from Moscow and local authorities issued hundreds of posters announcing that “EATING DEAD CHILDREN IS BARBARISM.” 95 Some peasants braved machine-guns in desperate assaults on grain stockpiles. Others robbed graves for gold to sell in Torgsin shops. Parents unable to feed their offspring sent them away from home to beg. Cities such as Kiev, Kharkov, Dnepropetrovsk, Poltava, Odessa and Belgorod were overrun by pathetic waifs with huge heads, stunted limbs and swollen bellies. Arthur Koestler said that they “looked like embryos out of alcohol bottles.” 96
Piers Brendon (The Dark Valley: A Panorama of the 1930s)