Says I, while one cat lies down on my arm as I type this, and the other hangs out on a plastic box which (clearly) must have been put there for his convenience. 🙂
I still recall a short story in one of the Catfantastic anthologies from the 80’s, in which a cat battled he vortex that took all the socks from the dryer. 🙂 And one that may have been by Andre Norton about a hero cat called Thragun Neklop. There was also a short about a cat who trans morphs by magic into a human to be with a beloved human.
Hmm, gosh there were four to xix of those at least. I am not sure I have hem in storage now. They are not, so far as I know, in ebooks, and are out of print. But they were great fun. (They had a series of feline parodies of Renaissance portraits, which was a plus in itself.)
(I’m still very partial to Andre Norton’s books. I should reread soon.)
@CJ, that reminds me, you had a short story in an anthology called Swords and Dark Magic. The short involved a wizard’s apprentice, a boy with a very runny nose. Heh. I enjoyed it and the others in the anthology.
Nope; I’d have to hunt up that one. It’s also not A Constellation of Cats, ed. Denise Little, which was great fun.
Catfantastic was a series of 5 anthologies of short stories edited by Andre Norton and Martin H. Greenberg, and possibly others, Amazon tells me. At one time, I had all 5 volumes. Heh, and I’ve just re-ordered them used. They’re all out of print but available used through your favorite bookseller. — Big-name and not-so-big-name SF&F authors in there, with as many takes on a cat in a story as one could want. (Well, one could want more, actually. 😉 ) And the cover art rocked too. Famous Renaissance portraits (or the like) with cats as the lords and ladies. 😉 These were tales of space, fantasy, early urban fantasy, whodunits, thrillers and chillers, science fiction, comedy, serious, you name it.
I’d enjoy seeing someone do another series. I’ve always liked short story anthologies anyway.
A cat belonging to an aunt lived with my grandparents when I was a kid (aunt was out of the country).
Odd-eyed white male Persian. Deaf, as they so often are.
Max liked to get up on the mantel and carefully push things off to watch them bounce. Or not bounce, as the case might have been. (He got to go out, on a leash. There was an overhead wire in the backyard they could clip the leash to, and he could wander a bit. Getting up on the fence and annoying the dog next door was the favored activity there.)
Shu pushes things off when he’s feeling neglected. Which is whenever he thinks food-time should be moved to. He’ll get up on the coffee table, which is not quite approved territory, and there’ll be an object there, like a pill bottle, and you can just see the wheels turning.
“It’s there. It could move. If it moved I would own this table alone. The food-sources will be upset at the racket. Or the mess. This looks like a racket-one. They’ll yell. I’ll own the table alone. They’ll have to pay attention if I have a table in front of them. They won’t be distracted by that thing anymore. They’ll have to see me. They’ll feed me. Oh, that thing looks like it has to go off the edge. I’ll threaten to do it. I’ll look at them. They have two chances before it gets to the edge. They can feed me now. Or I can push it off. I really can push it off. Oooooooo. There it goes. They’re on their feet. I can get down now. Once they’re up, they can feeeeeeed me…”
I got an insurance come-on letter that had a penny inside, to get you to open the letter, and I left the penny on the cabinet. My little grey girl, who was the only one who could jump up on the cabinet) putted the penny off the cabinet and right into one of their water dishes. She was really bad about putting stuff off the cabinet onto the floor. She’d get chopsticks out of the dish rack (if you wash the wooden ones in soapy water right after you use them, you can reuse them multiple times) and chase them under the refrigerator. I was using my bailing wire getter-outer-from-underer to retrieve the cat hockey pucks out from under the fridge one time and found three under there. I’d wondered where they’d disappeared to. There were two more under the stove. There are times when I miss her so much. . .
The only one of the crew I have left now is too fat to jump up onto the night stand, never mind the kitchen counter. He was never much of a jumper anyway, and he’s not a putter either.
Thank you, Ready!
Hahaha, and found a way to manipulate spacetime so they can take up as much space as possible while crowding everyone else out.
I’ve emailed an image of this to you.
Hahaha! Oh, that’s priceless! Yeah! 😀
Says I, while one cat lies down on my arm as I type this, and the other hangs out on a plastic box which (clearly) must have been put there for his convenience. 🙂
I still recall a short story in one of the Catfantastic anthologies from the 80’s, in which a cat battled he vortex that took all the socks from the dryer. 🙂 And one that may have been by Andre Norton about a hero cat called Thragun Neklop. There was also a short about a cat who trans morphs by magic into a human to be with a beloved human.
Hmm, gosh there were four to xix of those at least. I am not sure I have hem in storage now. They are not, so far as I know, in ebooks, and are out of print. But they were great fun. (They had a series of feline parodies of Renaissance portraits, which was a plus in itself.)
(I’m still very partial to Andre Norton’s books. I should reread soon.)
@CJ, that reminds me, you had a short story in an anthology called Swords and Dark Magic. The short involved a wizard’s apprentice, a boy with a very runny nose. Heh. I enjoyed it and the others in the anthology.
there we go. 😉
Is that the anthology edited by Jonathan Strahan and Lou Anders? If so, it’s on Amazon.
Nope; I’d have to hunt up that one. It’s also not A Constellation of Cats, ed. Denise Little, which was great fun.
Catfantastic was a series of 5 anthologies of short stories edited by Andre Norton and Martin H. Greenberg, and possibly others, Amazon tells me. At one time, I had all 5 volumes. Heh, and I’ve just re-ordered them used. They’re all out of print but available used through your favorite bookseller. — Big-name and not-so-big-name SF&F authors in there, with as many takes on a cat in a story as one could want. (Well, one could want more, actually. 😉 ) And the cover art rocked too. Famous Renaissance portraits (or the like) with cats as the lords and ladies. 😉 These were tales of space, fantasy, early urban fantasy, whodunits, thrillers and chillers, science fiction, comedy, serious, you name it.
I’d enjoy seeing someone do another series. I’ve always liked short story anthologies anyway.
A cat belonging to an aunt lived with my grandparents when I was a kid (aunt was out of the country).
Odd-eyed white male Persian. Deaf, as they so often are.
Max liked to get up on the mantel and carefully push things off to watch them bounce. Or not bounce, as the case might have been. (He got to go out, on a leash. There was an overhead wire in the backyard they could clip the leash to, and he could wander a bit. Getting up on the fence and annoying the dog next door was the favored activity there.)
Shu pushes things off when he’s feeling neglected. Which is whenever he thinks food-time should be moved to. He’ll get up on the coffee table, which is not quite approved territory, and there’ll be an object there, like a pill bottle, and you can just see the wheels turning.
“It’s there. It could move. If it moved I would own this table alone. The food-sources will be upset at the racket. Or the mess. This looks like a racket-one. They’ll yell. I’ll own the table alone. They’ll have to pay attention if I have a table in front of them. They won’t be distracted by that thing anymore. They’ll have to see me. They’ll feed me. Oh, that thing looks like it has to go off the edge. I’ll threaten to do it. I’ll look at them. They have two chances before it gets to the edge. They can feed me now. Or I can push it off. I really can push it off. Oooooooo. There it goes. They’re on their feet. I can get down now. Once they’re up, they can feeeeeeed me…”
That Rachael Ray commercial https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3TUd5U-CPQ never ceases to crack me up.
I got an insurance come-on letter that had a penny inside, to get you to open the letter, and I left the penny on the cabinet. My little grey girl, who was the only one who could jump up on the cabinet) putted the penny off the cabinet and right into one of their water dishes. She was really bad about putting stuff off the cabinet onto the floor. She’d get chopsticks out of the dish rack (if you wash the wooden ones in soapy water right after you use them, you can reuse them multiple times) and chase them under the refrigerator. I was using my bailing wire getter-outer-from-underer to retrieve the cat hockey pucks out from under the fridge one time and found three under there. I’d wondered where they’d disappeared to. There were two more under the stove. There are times when I miss her so much. . .
The only one of the crew I have left now is too fat to jump up onto the night stand, never mind the kitchen counter. He was never much of a jumper anyway, and he’s not a putter either.
Thank you so much, CJ, for correcting the original author’s egregious grammatical error. I confess, that is an absolute pet peeve!
That, for the grammatical epicure, is ‘subjunctive of condition contrary to fact’, not an ‘indicative hypothetical’. 😉
As I learned it — “If wishes were horses, beggers would ride.”
Contrary to known fact, therefore subjunctive.
If wishes were horses, we’d be knee-deep in it.