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On Being Voltaire

On White House cats

I was busy shredding and chewing on the Sunday newspaper yesterday when I noticed a bunch of ads mentioning President Day sales. A day to celebrate all the presidents, eh? Well, it got me to thinking. What about all the cats that made it to the White house? I think that they deserve some recognition, too. So, with a little help from my more studious cat-mate, Kafka, I did some research on White House cats.

On White House cats, this is what I learned.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that there is currently a cat living in the White House. I knew Dubya had some dogs, but I didn't know about the cat. She's a nice little black cat named India, but sometimes called "Willie." I heard that she likes to hide a lot. Maybe she doesn't like some of Dubya's politics and is keeping a low profile. Cats can be like that, y'know. They don't like something, they disappear. You can draw your own conclusion. The Bushes actually had another cat, a polydactyl cat named Ernie, who was deemed "too wild" for White House life and went to live in California. Hmm...

Before India there was Socks, the Clinton cat who was also sometimes referred to as the "First Cat". Socks was definitely more of a visible presence during his stay in the White House than India has been recently. I think everyone knew Socks. Socks got mail, as did Buddy--the Clinton dog. Hillary saved the letters and put them into a book, "Dear Socks, Dear Buddy".

President Carter's daughter, Amy, kept a cat with her in the White House. The cat was a Siamese named Misty Malarky Ying Yang. When it comes down to the names of all the White House cats , I think I like Misty Malarky Ying Yang's name the best.

President Ford's daughter also liked Siamese cats and brought a Siamese named Chan to reside with her at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Still going backwards in time, there was a dry spell for White House cats during the Nixon and Johnson years. John F. Kennedy, however, let many animals into the White House. Among them was Tom Kitten the Cat. The JFK White House years also saw a presidential rabbit, 3 ponies, 2 each of parakeets and hamsters, a canary, and a whole bunch of dogs.

Eisenhower, Truman, and F.D.R. did not live with White House cats but they all had several dogs. Herbert Hoover was the same way--several dogs, no cats. I heard he kept an opossum, though.

Now, Calvin Coolidge was THE man. There were 3 White House cats with him during his White House stay--Bounder, Tiger, and Blacky. It seems Coolridge had a passion for all variety of living things. I heard he kept at least 13 dogs, some canaries, 2 raccoons,a donkey, a bobcat, a thrush, a goose, a mockingbird, a bear, an antelope, a wallaby,a pygmy hippo, and (to round it all out) some lion cubs. Wow.

Woodrow Wilson had a cat. William Taft had a cow. Theodore Roosevelt was like Coolidge and had some exotic animals at the White House, but none were cats.

The very 1st cat that I could trace to the White House was during William McKinley's term. During that time the White House became home to an Angora mama cat and her kittens. It doesn't appear that there were any White House cats before the McKinley years, although a wide variety of other animals are documented as being Pennsylvania Avenue residents. I'll bet there was a cat or two, they just opted to stay out of the lime-light.

On White House cats, that's about all I learned . I think that's enough to earn myself some sort of pedigree, or is it degree? Maybe all that knowledge is deserving of both. That would give me two new pieces of paper to shred up and chew on. Studying does pay off, doesn't it? Meow for now. Voltaire.

On Bedtime Stories for Kittens.

I have been told by one of my cat-mates that I should do something special for Zoe, since it is Kitten Week, and so I cut my nap-time short today in order to create for her a new bedtime story. Zoe likes to pretend that she is already too grown up for that kind of thing, but I will tell you that she cannot wait for one of us to curl up with her on the bed in the evening and recite to her a good tale before she goes to the land of Nod.

Now, before I get to the tale, let me say a word or two on bedtime stories for kittens. They benefit kittens in many ways. First, the telling of bedtime stories provides a shared time together which is emotionally satisfying to all parties involved. The stories help stimulate a young kitten's mind, thus inspiring intellectual growth. Also, the tales help a kitten to learn about what is going on in the world around them and find out about things outside their backyard.

Now, onto my tale.

A BedTime Story For Kittens

Once upon a time there was a cat named "K" who lived in The Land Down Under. Now "K" resided with a human, as she liked to call him, in a tidy and comfortable home that suited her taste quite splendidly.

"K" was a beautiful and wise cat, who knew everything there was to know about many things such as science, art, and architecture. "K" also was a generous cat and she kindly shared all of her vast knowledge freely with her human. At any time, whether night or day, her human found himself in need of fact or reliable information, "K" was there to offer her guidance. It may be said that "K' was her human's mentor.

Now, "K"s human loved "K' very much for all the reasons set forth above--her beauty, her generosity, her wisdom. With all the love that filled his heart, he set out to indulge her in every possible manner. And thus, he brought into the home a Cow whose udders were full of milk so that "K" may have fresh cream at any time she wished.

But "K" was not pleased with Cow in the home. "K" found Cow to be quite heavy, and so feared that one day Cow may crush her while she lay sleeping. When Cow moo'd, "K" discovered that mooing in the home was very loud, indeed. Cow's mooing would fill the rooms with echos. Windowpanes rattled and chandeliers shivered which "K" found quite displeasing in the midst of an afternoon nap.

To worsen the matter, each time Cow moo'd, the impolite odor of Cow's breath would filter through the air causing "K" to cough. There was to be no peace in the home with Cow present, or so it seemed, and "K" knew in her heart that all the fresh cream in the world could not compare to a tranquil and sweet smelling home.

And so it came to be that "K"'s human rid the home of Cow at "K's request. Both "K" and her human found this to be quite satisfactory, and they lived happily ever after.

The End

A very special thanks to Keiser, in Australia, for being the inspiration and archetype for my tale. Meow for now, Voltaire

On Chewing

I like to chew. Knaw or bite are probably better word choices for it, actually. Whatever you choose to call it, I sure do like to do it.

As a younger cat, I single-pawedly destroyed at least 5 phone line cords with my teeth. The folks swore that I was trying to cut the communication link with the outside world as a first step in some nefarious plot to take them hostage and then take control of the house. But that wasn't it. I just liked to chew. On phone line cords. Until they were bitten through. Cool.

In the past, I've also found chomping my teeth down on leather a quite pleasant evening activity. I've left my mark on a few pair of leather shoes (some of which I understand were "designer shoes" whatever that means), a leather wallet, and a leather brief case/tote thingee. For some reason, I just can't find leather shoes lying around on the floor like I used to. Sad.

Headphone wires, speaker wires, game-controller wires are all good things to chew on, although the folks never have seen it the way I do. Like the leather shoes, these things seem to be a lot less accessible than they used to be. I can't remember the last time a portable music player with head-phones was left lying on the couch for my chewing pleasure. Boy, do I miss those days.

I really like it when a leaf or a twig gets smuggled into the house on someone's shoe. I love chewing leaves and twigs. It's good chewing, but again it's something that the folks don't seem to agree with. This one I don't get. Some humans use chewing tobacco. That's about the same as me chewing on a leaf or twig, don't ya' think?

And then there's food. All kinds of food. But that's really a different story that goes beyond chewing, and I'll get to that some other time.

On chewing, it seems some animals do it and others don't. I've heard that sometimes chewing can be a sign of mal-nourishment. It's also speculated that chewing is done out of sheer boredom. I personally don't do it for either of those reasons. I just like to chew, that's all.

I have to tell you though, it's gotten pretty scarce around here for chewing opportunties. The folks have just about shuffled every good wire, cord, and leather object out of sight. Personally, I don't see why they've fussed and bothered and made such a big deal out of it. These days it's mostly a chew-barren land that I live in. You'd think I was stealing from them the way they've secured things. Hey, it was only a few teeth marks. And a few severed wires. What's the big deal with the folks on chewing anyway, for cat's sake?
Oh well. Meow for now. Voltaire