Orange Tabby

Friday, May 1, 2020,

This is one beautiful cat. I didn’t look under any tails so I don’t know it’s gender, but it sure is good-looking. This is not my cat. Every cat I’ve had in the past thirty plus years has been home bound. This cat is in fact and in deed a major threat to wildlife. He hangs about the Marine Nature Study Area in Oceanside, New York. While I have not observed him at work, many of my fellow photographers have seen him with prey, usually birds but at least once with a Muskrat. When I took these photos he was not staring wistfully into the distance. On the contrary, he was vigilantly busy watching birds. And not in a good way. Cats are cats, and cats are predators. Very, very good predators.

Don’t get me wrong. I love cats. I really do. I go to sleep each night with one sleeping on my chest. But, as I stated above, cats are predators, first and foremost. I can’t tell you that they cannot help themselves because it would never even occur to a cat to help itself by not attempting to catch and kill anything that it can, well, catch and kill. It is the very nature of cats to catch and kill. I don’t blame cats for being cats, but I do have a problem with the folks that allow their cats to roam outdoors claiming that their “Fluffy wouldn’t hurt a fly.” I’ve got news for you people. Fluffy would indeed hurt a fly. And Fluffy will not stop there. Fluffy and her brethren are responsible for the deaths of as many as 3.7 billion birds in the United States alone. The death toll does not stop there. Cats are also suspected to kill as many 20 billion small mammals each year. Again that’s billions. Let that soak in for a moment.

Now, let’s turn our attention to the left ear of this very handsome cat. Again, I really am unaware of it’s gender so it may very well be a female cat. Do you see how that ear has been apparently lopped off? At first, I thought this was a sign of an accident or maybe even frostbite. Upon further inquiry, I found out that this is a sign of a Trap, Neuter, and Release (TNR) program. Sometimes they notch a cat’s ear and sometimes they just clip the corner. Both methods seem a bit cruel to me, but so does capturing and releasing a proven dangerous animal to the wild. The idea behind TNR seems to be that there will fewer wild cats if the trapped cats have been neutered. This, in itself, would appear to be a good idea. However, releasing said cats back into the wild, does nothing to deter them from killing more birds and small mammals. Even Fluffy, who gets three square meals at home, likes to catch her own prey. She doesn’t need to be hungry to kill. She just needs to follow her nature. And it’s in a cat’s nature to kill.  JK.

Minx: Three Final Shots

Thursday, July 6, 2017,


This is Minxosaurus, the cat formerly known as Minx. She’s graced these pages twice before. These three pics were taken within the past week, so you’re seeing her as an old lady this time. Minx died last night while we were watching the movie “Gross Pointe Blank“, which was one of her favorite films. She always had a thing for John Cusack. 


Minx and I had a good run. I adopted her when she was just a wee lass of about three months of age. Eighteen years later, she’d become a grand old lady while remaining a sweetheart every step of the way. This is not to say that she never had her moments. Minx was, in fact, the most annoying cat I’ve ever had. And then some.

I can still recall multiple bloody encounters when it came time to visit the vet. My blood, not hers. She was a biter as well as a scratcher. And she was quite adept at both.

Minx was very nearly named ‘Mouse’ because, as a kitten, she would follow, and attack, my mouse cursor across my computer monitor. This was both endearing and frustrating at the same time. The phrase “I’ll make Minxmeat out of you!” was uttered quite often back then. After she got over this “catch the mouse” phase, she still made my desk her home. That spot, front and center, was her favorite spot in the house. She did the lap cat thing from time to time, more so as she got older, but right in my face as I was trying to work was her favorite place to be. Thank goodness for roll-out keyboard trays.

She was also the most vocal cat I’ve ever known. That isn’t what made her so annoying, but it didn’t hurt. She meowed when the food bowl was only three quarters full. She meowed when I took too long to refill it. She meowed when she felt she was getting enough attention. She meowed when I rubbed her wrong. She meowed when I rubbed her right. She meowed when I couldn’t figure out what she meowing about. I would tease her, saying, “What is it hon? Is Timmy down a well?” That would really set her off because she hated Lassie and any other dog show and, boy oh boy, she’d really let me have it then. But there was never a minute that I didn’t keep loving her.


Goodnight and goodbye, Sweetheart. You were wonderful, every single moment.


Handsome Drooler

Friday, March 3, 2017,


This handsome beast is one of several great dogs that I met in Lake George, NY during the third weekend of the city’s Winter Carnival celebration. While he may not look it, he was quite friendly. Actually, when I look at this pic, I think he looks pensive. Deep thoughts, a philosopher perhaps. Or maybe he’s just wondering what my forearm tastes like. Who can tell? JK