Hello, Hazard Cat enthusiasts. Sorry I haven't been posting as much. I have some health problems and need surgery on my foot.
My kitties are having eye problems. If you've heard of this, please send me an email or leave a comment.
First, Devlin's eyes started. The second eyelids close halfway most of the time, but not all the time. I thought it was allergies.
Now all my cats except Spooky and kittens have the affliction. They have no symptoms otherwise, and they've had their shots. Any ideas?
Thanks! I'm also adding a donation button to the site to help pay for submissions. If you like what you read and see and want to contribute a buck, that would be awesome.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Cat People by Bruce Boston
Cat People
by Bruce Boston
If cat people
were the world
we would embrace
the sharp and furry.
We would slink
along the street
and dash across it.
If cat people
were the world
we would build walls
against the sea.
We would sleep
by day and wander
the haunts and heights
of our cities by night.
We would have flesh
delivered living
to the arena
of our choice.
We would delight
in our feasting
and celebrate
the deathful grace
in our play.
If cat people
were the world,
oh how we would purr!
by Bruce Boston
If cat people
were the world
we would embrace
the sharp and furry.
We would slink
along the street
and dash across it.
If cat people
were the world
we would build walls
against the sea.
We would sleep
by day and wander
the haunts and heights
of our cities by night.
We would have flesh
delivered living
to the arena
of our choice.
We would delight
in our feasting
and celebrate
the deathful grace
in our play.
If cat people
were the world,
oh how we would purr!
Cat-Butt-Be-Gone!
Cat owners. We learned a new trick today. Spray air freshener into your air conditioner filter while A/C's on and it goes out every vent in the house.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Interview with Merlin from Gaia Dreams by Pamela Davis
Heard about Hazard Cat and had to stop by. I’ve been out and about with my pet, Lisanne. She thinks she owns me, but I see her as my pet human. We’re out there promoting the book, Gaia Dreams, which was just released, a book where I am featured! Well, so are some other animals and humans, but I guarantee I’m the one you’ll remember the most.
So, the end of the world is not as final as you might think. It is, however, quite messy. Disasters happening all over the place, and who is always forgotten at those times? The animals of course. Cats like me are the ones who survive. We survive by having a human completely under our, um, paw.
Hello, Merlin. We’ve never had an interview on Hazard Cat before, and we’re super-excited to have one with a cat from a book! Tell me, what do you look like?
Gorgeous, naturally. Oh, you want details? Solid black shining fur with large golden eyes that can stare right into your innermost thoughts.
I hear you associate largely with one person, Lisanne. What’s she like?
A pain in the—neck. She’s incredibly smart brain-wise, but dumb as can be when it comes to living life. Without me, who knows where she’d end up. Let’s just say that I am the reason she’s still alive.
I’ve read your story, and I’m amazed that you endured so much disaster. How did you keep clean?
By insisting that Lisanne carry me wherever there was a mess. Humans do have their uses, you know.
What did you think about riding in a car out of a cat carrier?
I refused to be imprisoned by such an inhibiting cage! I will admit there were times I landed rather unceremoniously on the floor of the car, and it is true I had to hang on by my claws a few times to keep from being thrown around, but that’s all in the line of duty for an independent such as myself.
Do you prefer laptops, or would you be able to work well with a blackberry or iPad?
An iPad might work, but a laptop is best. Anything with a mouse is fun.
What was the scariest thing you encountered with your person, Lisanne, in the telling of your story in Gaia Dreams?
Lisanne’s driving. Ha. No, it was the snakes. Don’t ask, I can’t say more.
What is happening now? Rumor has it you have more of a story to tell. Don’t give away everything! We human readers, unlike cats, like to be surprised.
There is more of a story coming—if the author could be chained to her computer it would come out sooner. I will be featured prominently. I’ve suggested a title of Merlin’s Amazing Adventures, but so far it has been voted down.
Thanks for coming to Hazard Cat, Merlin. Any advice to give cats in preparation for the end of the world as we know it?
Try not to hook up with a party girl. Stock up on cans of tuna and salmon—rather, make sure your human does so. And direct your human to a safe zone where there is plenty of fish. Lightly sauteed trout is delectable, and humans are great at catching fish.
Where can we read your story?
Gaia Dreams on Kindle
Gaia Dreams in Paperback
So, the end of the world is not as final as you might think. It is, however, quite messy. Disasters happening all over the place, and who is always forgotten at those times? The animals of course. Cats like me are the ones who survive. We survive by having a human completely under our, um, paw.
Hello, Merlin. We’ve never had an interview on Hazard Cat before, and we’re super-excited to have one with a cat from a book! Tell me, what do you look like?
Gorgeous, naturally. Oh, you want details? Solid black shining fur with large golden eyes that can stare right into your innermost thoughts.
I hear you associate largely with one person, Lisanne. What’s she like?
A pain in the—neck. She’s incredibly smart brain-wise, but dumb as can be when it comes to living life. Without me, who knows where she’d end up. Let’s just say that I am the reason she’s still alive.
I’ve read your story, and I’m amazed that you endured so much disaster. How did you keep clean?
By insisting that Lisanne carry me wherever there was a mess. Humans do have their uses, you know.
What did you think about riding in a car out of a cat carrier?
I refused to be imprisoned by such an inhibiting cage! I will admit there were times I landed rather unceremoniously on the floor of the car, and it is true I had to hang on by my claws a few times to keep from being thrown around, but that’s all in the line of duty for an independent such as myself.
Do you prefer laptops, or would you be able to work well with a blackberry or iPad?
An iPad might work, but a laptop is best. Anything with a mouse is fun.
What was the scariest thing you encountered with your person, Lisanne, in the telling of your story in Gaia Dreams?
Lisanne’s driving. Ha. No, it was the snakes. Don’t ask, I can’t say more.
What is happening now? Rumor has it you have more of a story to tell. Don’t give away everything! We human readers, unlike cats, like to be surprised.
There is more of a story coming—if the author could be chained to her computer it would come out sooner. I will be featured prominently. I’ve suggested a title of Merlin’s Amazing Adventures, but so far it has been voted down.
Thanks for coming to Hazard Cat, Merlin. Any advice to give cats in preparation for the end of the world as we know it?
Try not to hook up with a party girl. Stock up on cans of tuna and salmon—rather, make sure your human does so. And direct your human to a safe zone where there is plenty of fish. Lightly sauteed trout is delectable, and humans are great at catching fish.
Where can we read your story?
Gaia Dreams on Kindle
Gaia Dreams in Paperback
Thursday, July 14, 2011
A Cat’s Love by Samantha Memi
A Cat’s Love
by Samantha Memi
Cupid fingered the feathers of an arrow, placed it on the string of his bow, aimed, and fired.
A cat washing its paws near a bus-stop was suddenly struck with love for a woman waiting for a bus looking at a man who stood just behind a cat. The man looked down the road for a bus and then went into a shop. The woman wondered if she had time to nip into the shop, buy some chocolate and perhaps nudge the man gently, smile and say sorry. She looked into the shop and just as she decided to go in, the cat, a beautiful Siamese, pushed against her leg. As it was summer she wore no tights, and the fur of the cat was so soft and sensual she wanted to feel it in her hands and against her face. Just as she picked up the purring creature and felt it push its whiskers against her cheeks and heard its purrs and looked into its soft loving eyes, the man came out of the shop looked at the woman and said,
'That's a beautiful cat. Is it yours?'
'No. It just came up and made friends with me.'
The cat, for whom the man was a rival, narrowed its eyes as he came over and, as he reached to stroke its head, the claws in its paw opened and in a painful swipe drew blood on the back of the man's hand. Immediately the woman dropped the cat, said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry,' to the man and reached into her handbag for a tissue.
'It's nothing,' said the man, half-wishing the woman wasn't there so he could kick the cat. 'It could probably smell the dog of a friend of mine. I've just been round there. There's no harm done.'
By friend he meant girlfriend and her dog was a Chihuahua that he hated because it constantly yapped.
'I've got some Rescue Cream. It will stop any scaring.'
The man disliked all the fuss over a tiny scratch in front of the other waiting bus passengers but to please the woman he acquiesced as she spread the cooling, healing solution on the back of his hand. He tried to see her face as she applied the cream but as her head was tipped forward he saw more of her eyelashes than her eyes and none of her face except the ridge of her nose.
A 61 arrived.
'This is my bus,' he said.
'Mine too,' she lied.
She would be late for work but this was a chance too good to miss. The woman got on the bus. The man followed. The cat too, unnoticed by the driver. They sat together and just as the woman had made herself comfortable the cat jumped on her lap.
'It obviously likes you,' said the man.
'I wish I could say the same after what its done to your hand,' said the woman and she lifted the cat from her lap and put it on the floor.
The man said his name was David. He worked as a driver, delivering washing machines and fridges all round the south-east. Her name was Diane and she worked as a cashier at a supermarket in Holloway Road.
'You're on the wrong bus,' he said.
'I've got the morning off,' she lied, 'I'm going to see a friend,' and she told him she had to get off at the next stop. He asked her if she'd like to meet for a drink sometime.'
'Okay,' she said, fluttering her eyelashes and pretending to be shy. She gave him her phone number.
When she got off the bus the cat followed. She was in Farringdon. How the hell do I get to Holloway Road, she thought. She realised she was 20 minutes late already. By the time she got to work she would be at least an hour late. Then she felt the cat curling round her leg as she stood and wondered what to do. How weird, she thought, is this thing following me? She picked it up and loved its softness stroking against her and the breezy purring helped her relax. I'll take the morning off she decided and phoned work to say she couldn't get in till the afternoon. Then Diane and cat caught the bus home.
The cat immediately made itself at home, and when she got back that evening with cat food and milk, the cat curled round her legs and its purrs were full of affection. She lifted it up and it pushed its face against hers and she embraced its warmth into her life.
He never phoned, but she didn’t care. Her beautiful cat gave her all the love she needed.
by Samantha Memi
Cupid fingered the feathers of an arrow, placed it on the string of his bow, aimed, and fired.
A cat washing its paws near a bus-stop was suddenly struck with love for a woman waiting for a bus looking at a man who stood just behind a cat. The man looked down the road for a bus and then went into a shop. The woman wondered if she had time to nip into the shop, buy some chocolate and perhaps nudge the man gently, smile and say sorry. She looked into the shop and just as she decided to go in, the cat, a beautiful Siamese, pushed against her leg. As it was summer she wore no tights, and the fur of the cat was so soft and sensual she wanted to feel it in her hands and against her face. Just as she picked up the purring creature and felt it push its whiskers against her cheeks and heard its purrs and looked into its soft loving eyes, the man came out of the shop looked at the woman and said,
'That's a beautiful cat. Is it yours?'
'No. It just came up and made friends with me.'
The cat, for whom the man was a rival, narrowed its eyes as he came over and, as he reached to stroke its head, the claws in its paw opened and in a painful swipe drew blood on the back of the man's hand. Immediately the woman dropped the cat, said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry,' to the man and reached into her handbag for a tissue.
'It's nothing,' said the man, half-wishing the woman wasn't there so he could kick the cat. 'It could probably smell the dog of a friend of mine. I've just been round there. There's no harm done.'
By friend he meant girlfriend and her dog was a Chihuahua that he hated because it constantly yapped.
'I've got some Rescue Cream. It will stop any scaring.'
The man disliked all the fuss over a tiny scratch in front of the other waiting bus passengers but to please the woman he acquiesced as she spread the cooling, healing solution on the back of his hand. He tried to see her face as she applied the cream but as her head was tipped forward he saw more of her eyelashes than her eyes and none of her face except the ridge of her nose.
A 61 arrived.
'This is my bus,' he said.
'Mine too,' she lied.
She would be late for work but this was a chance too good to miss. The woman got on the bus. The man followed. The cat too, unnoticed by the driver. They sat together and just as the woman had made herself comfortable the cat jumped on her lap.
'It obviously likes you,' said the man.
'I wish I could say the same after what its done to your hand,' said the woman and she lifted the cat from her lap and put it on the floor.
The man said his name was David. He worked as a driver, delivering washing machines and fridges all round the south-east. Her name was Diane and she worked as a cashier at a supermarket in Holloway Road.
'You're on the wrong bus,' he said.
'I've got the morning off,' she lied, 'I'm going to see a friend,' and she told him she had to get off at the next stop. He asked her if she'd like to meet for a drink sometime.'
'Okay,' she said, fluttering her eyelashes and pretending to be shy. She gave him her phone number.
When she got off the bus the cat followed. She was in Farringdon. How the hell do I get to Holloway Road, she thought. She realised she was 20 minutes late already. By the time she got to work she would be at least an hour late. Then she felt the cat curling round her leg as she stood and wondered what to do. How weird, she thought, is this thing following me? She picked it up and loved its softness stroking against her and the breezy purring helped her relax. I'll take the morning off she decided and phoned work to say she couldn't get in till the afternoon. Then Diane and cat caught the bus home.
The cat immediately made itself at home, and when she got back that evening with cat food and milk, the cat curled round her legs and its purrs were full of affection. She lifted it up and it pushed its face against hers and she embraced its warmth into her life.
He never phoned, but she didn’t care. Her beautiful cat gave her all the love she needed.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Hierarchy by Amanda C. Davis
Hierarchy
by Amanda C. Davis
The first fingernail fell out at nine-thirty at night. I was drinking a Coke and watching my cat attack the rug when the nail slid free, just slipped right out of my smallest finger and left a smooth pink slot behind.
I picked it up. It was longer than I'd thought, a half-cylinder of translucent Bakelite with one white edge. I'd paid a lot for that French manicure.
I held it up to the cat. "You did this?"
She shrugged, as cats do.
"It's not funny."
Her attention remained fixed on a snag in the rug.
"Okay, okay," I said. "I'm sorry I got you declawed. Now break the curse."
The cat yawned. She leapt from the floor to the sofa to the staircase and vanished.
The cuticle of my ring finger went rubbery, and another nail drifted to the floor. Two down, eight to go. Or would it be eighteen? "I should have gotten the poodle," I muttered, collecting the nail. Dogs don't give you this kind of trouble. And things were really going to get hairy when it came time to have her spayed.
by Amanda C. Davis
The first fingernail fell out at nine-thirty at night. I was drinking a Coke and watching my cat attack the rug when the nail slid free, just slipped right out of my smallest finger and left a smooth pink slot behind.
I picked it up. It was longer than I'd thought, a half-cylinder of translucent Bakelite with one white edge. I'd paid a lot for that French manicure.
I held it up to the cat. "You did this?"
She shrugged, as cats do.
"It's not funny."
Her attention remained fixed on a snag in the rug.
"Okay, okay," I said. "I'm sorry I got you declawed. Now break the curse."
The cat yawned. She leapt from the floor to the sofa to the staircase and vanished.
The cuticle of my ring finger went rubbery, and another nail drifted to the floor. Two down, eight to go. Or would it be eighteen? "I should have gotten the poodle," I muttered, collecting the nail. Dogs don't give you this kind of trouble. And things were really going to get hairy when it came time to have her spayed.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
I Am A Bomb by Mark Wolf
I Am A Bomb
by Mark Wolf
I dream of being human. Unsurprisingly, I suppose, since the organic part of me still contains human brain cells, though they don't function very well, being filled with cancer. The rest of me was cremated last year when I died. Cancer does that, you know.
The part of me that is still human is in a Croid, (cat-droid), patrolling the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan, observing the behavior of Taliban forces as they move between the two countries. Waiting for my tasking order. For you see, I am not JUST an observer. I am a bomb.
The organic part of me that is cat, the part of the cat's brain that controls motor skills and behaviors, would rather sit in hiding, waiting for a rat to peek its head out from one of the ground burrows scattered throughout the region, and finds my scouting boring. It is a constant struggle to keep the cat on task.
I sat-link my observations to my handler back in Afghanistan. One of the sites I've been watching, a series of caves, has been seeing more traffic in and out of it for the last few days. My handler pulls me from my other observation sites and tasks me to move in closer and relay faces back to him; my mission is infinitely more dangerous now. My droid cat body would never be mistaken for the real thing, being made of Kevlar composites, and titanium. T-Rex/cat terminators, or T-Ts, we are called.
Red lights flash in my heads up holo display as a white robed figure passes before me. My facial recognition software recognizes a primary target. A major Taliban leader. I'm ordered to go active.
I feel relays clicking inside me, mixing the ingredients of the chemical bomb. I'm now toxic on two levels, the proximity explosive that will trigger within a yard of my primary target and the biological agents that will mist from my body from a dozen yards away. I'm sent in.
As the mist seeps from my body, I am spotted and fired on. I began running and leaping toward my target. Several rounds from an AK-47 hit me. I drag myself forward the last few yards with my front legs. Just before I trigger the explosive, my cat brain fixes on a memory, more of a dream, actually, of being blind, surrounded by warm siblings searching for mama's milk. It's a good dream to fix my mind on as I blast myself into oblivion.
by Mark Wolf
I dream of being human. Unsurprisingly, I suppose, since the organic part of me still contains human brain cells, though they don't function very well, being filled with cancer. The rest of me was cremated last year when I died. Cancer does that, you know.
The part of me that is still human is in a Croid, (cat-droid), patrolling the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan, observing the behavior of Taliban forces as they move between the two countries. Waiting for my tasking order. For you see, I am not JUST an observer. I am a bomb.
The organic part of me that is cat, the part of the cat's brain that controls motor skills and behaviors, would rather sit in hiding, waiting for a rat to peek its head out from one of the ground burrows scattered throughout the region, and finds my scouting boring. It is a constant struggle to keep the cat on task.
I sat-link my observations to my handler back in Afghanistan. One of the sites I've been watching, a series of caves, has been seeing more traffic in and out of it for the last few days. My handler pulls me from my other observation sites and tasks me to move in closer and relay faces back to him; my mission is infinitely more dangerous now. My droid cat body would never be mistaken for the real thing, being made of Kevlar composites, and titanium. T-Rex/cat terminators, or T-Ts, we are called.
Red lights flash in my heads up holo display as a white robed figure passes before me. My facial recognition software recognizes a primary target. A major Taliban leader. I'm ordered to go active.
I feel relays clicking inside me, mixing the ingredients of the chemical bomb. I'm now toxic on two levels, the proximity explosive that will trigger within a yard of my primary target and the biological agents that will mist from my body from a dozen yards away. I'm sent in.
As the mist seeps from my body, I am spotted and fired on. I began running and leaping toward my target. Several rounds from an AK-47 hit me. I drag myself forward the last few yards with my front legs. Just before I trigger the explosive, my cat brain fixes on a memory, more of a dream, actually, of being blind, surrounded by warm siblings searching for mama's milk. It's a good dream to fix my mind on as I blast myself into oblivion.
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