Posts Tagged ‘F’

Gallery: Funky

Monday, August 4th, 2014

Name: Funky
Location: Scotland

Funky from Scotland

Hey, don't look at me like that, she had catnip in her pocket!

What makes Funky so mean?

Funky came our way when she was about 4 months old. The first time I saw her she was sitting on my couch looking sweet and innocent. When I sat next to her, she came over and took a big bite of my ass. I knew then my fate was sealed and she would be my chief for life.

Quite the hunter, she has decimated the local mouse population and just loves baby birds, especially when they have ickle feathers. She doesn’t kill for the hell of it, she eats them too. She also does a fine business of bullying the other cats locally.

Not a lap cat, she very rarely gets close to her human subjects. She growls like a dog (probably louder actually) and is hard as nails. Her claws are along the lines of Wolverine in X-Men, fully extendable and retractable in a split second, as my hands and arms would testify.

Photo submitted by: Linda

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Gallery: Fuzby

Monday, May 26th, 2014

Name: Fuzby
Location: Iowa City, Iowa

Fuzby is a meankitty

It's true. I'm the obvious pick of any litter.

What makes Fuzby so mean?

My name is Ian and this is my evil little 8-pound ball of fury named Fuzby from Iowa City, Iowa. My family and I bought him from a litter of farm-born kittens and he was the obvious pick of the litter. Out of all his siblings, he was the only male and the only tabby (the rest were orange).

We quickly realized when we brought him home that he had much more of a temper than any other cat we had owned previously. As a kitten he would lie in wait around corners and then jump out and cling to people’s legs so he could gnaw on them. The only time of day that he allows himself to be petted is in the morning, when he receives his daily brushing – this is also the only time you will here him purr loudly.

Fuzby is mean mean mean

I have no idea why everyone thinks it's so cold this winter.

In the second picture you can see him sitting on a heating vent – this is his favorite spot during winter and if you try to move him then prepare to bleed. He has always been a very small cat, never weighing more than about 9 pounds, but this does not stop him from challenging dogs, raccoons, groundhogs, other cats, deer, and of course people. Every time we take him to the vet he has to be anesthetized because the veterinarians are afraid of his bite, but even under anesthesia he manages to make his displeasure very clear with a surprisingly loud and low sounding growl that you wouldn’t expect a cat of his size to be capable of. I think he’s the coolest cat ever though.

Submitted by: Ian

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Gallery: Fluff

Friday, May 9th, 2014

Name: Fluff
Location: London, UK

Fluff is a meankitty.

When I squint, you almost look like a cat!

What makes Fluff so mean?

This is my mean kitty Fluffy. She is so cute but don’t let her gorgeous looks fool you! We rescued her from the Cat Protection people. No wonder her helper was so relieved when we decided to take her away. I wondered why her hands were bandaged and she was shaking constantly. We have had the fluff ball for 2 years now and we no longer have furniture in our house as they are/were her scratching posts.

Fluff likes her payback.

Speaking of payback... Well, I'll let you figure it out once you unpack your suitcase.

If food has been in her bowl for more than 10 minutes, then she refuses to eat it and my mum feeds her fresh raw chicken every other day. (The cat gets fed better than me!) My hand is scarred with claw marks. Its a sign of love, right? Also, she is so lazy. She sleeps constantly so no wonder she is always cranky when I pull her tail and wake her up. (She wakes me up at 5 am, so it’s my payback.)

Submitted by: Pina

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Gallery: Fleur (2)

Sunday, May 4th, 2014

Name: Fleur (2)
Location: Unknown

Fleur is a meankitty

Check it out -- I can hide behind my tail and then jump out and bite you! Who cares about "Softpaws"!

What makes Fleur so mean?

This is Fleur. Yes, she’s little, and delicate, and pretty like a flower, but she’s meaner than hell. Has been since the day I brought the little thug home. She hates everyone in the house but my five year old daughter, who, ironically, bears the nickname El Diablo. She routinely beats the snot out of my sweet kitty DangerDebbie, who outweighs Fleur by about ten pounds, and harasses my geriatric kitties, Tiki and Nina, whenever they are between naps. Happily for those two, the between nap moments are few and far between in their golden years.

On a more pleasant note, since we discovered an invention called SoftPaws, Fleur’s evil quotient has been greatly reduced. Everyone in this household breathes easier now. And the scars on my hand are slowly healing.

Submitted by: Chris

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Gallery: Fleur

Saturday, May 3rd, 2014

Name: Fleur
Location: Missouri

Fleur is a meankitty

I'm going to run around and around the stupid human's legs with lightning speed until I trip him, just like on tv. Get the video camera!

What makes Fleur so mean?

Fleur is an Angora, apparently. She was found in a post-office parking lot, propositioning everyone in sight. When my wife brought her home, Fleur had a white stripe from the nape of the neck to the base of the tail; hence the name. Even though she’s the youngest of our pride, she has more cattitude than the total of the rest and has our Keeshond totally cowed.

She’s totally sweet to 2-leggers, Hell-on-4-paws to the rest. Feels that she should be a “one & only”. The bell showing in the picture of her is on a Harley-Davidson collar, and there is a yellow chain is attached to her harness. For outside use only, not pegged down to anything; just an extra 13′ so I can reel her in off the neighbors’ roof, or out of a tree.

Submitted by: Kenneth

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Gallery: Fluffy

Saturday, February 1st, 2014

Name: Fluffy
Location: Backyard

Fluffly is a meankitty

One guess what I'm doing in this photo... Heh heh heh.

What makes Fluffy so mean?

Don’t let the sappy name fool you. Fluffy’s harmless with humans, but most other kitties–watch out! He steals my other cat’s food (in addition to eating his own) and will actually shove Max (the nice kitty) out of the way to get to it. He’s also a chaser. My late cat Bosco took to living in the basement to avoid him chasing her and batting at her with his paws. Amazingly enough, I still adore him.

Submitted by: Denise

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Gallery: Felix’s Advantage Story

Thursday, January 9th, 2014

What makes Felix even meaner than the other post about him?

A short story by Nanny Slave

I own two cats, a long haired brother and sister combo. Felix, the larger of the pair, is a gregarious and hungry cat, and Nala is dainty and skittish. They are indoor cats. I live in my grandmother’s old house, and one would assume there are no fleas here — this house has never been home to any pet that anyone can remember until now. Although my dear Felix tears his hair from his bottom, and fey little Nala pukes with abandon, I have never seen a flea to mar their silky white coats. And yet they scratch like fiends.

Therefore, I took it upon myself to invest in Advantage flea treatments, top-of-the-line parasite protection conveniently available from my veterinarian. It is said to protect cats from a variety of external parasites, including all types of fleas, ticks, and household mites.

“Great,” says I. “I didn’t even know I needed to be worrying about mites.”

I purchases two doses of the miraculous Advantage at fifteen dollars per tube. I did not care for this price, might I add, but for the safety and health of my cats, I splurge. Some people treat themselves to new shoes; I buy fancy cat medicine. What a life.

I requested that my good friend Paul visit my house that eve so that he could assist me with the application of the Advantage. I did not tell him the reason for my invitation, for he would not have come, had he known. Advantage is dispensed in a slim, pointy tube with a twist-off plastic top. The distribution process involves placing the tube spout against the animal’s skin between the shoulder blades and slightly squeezing the liquid onto the skin as you move up towards the head, against the growth of the animals’ hair.

Felix's Advantage Story

I just gone done with some Nala shoulder blade licking. Why ith my tongue so numb?

Let me just add that Felix and Nala have very thick hair. Rarely do I see any skin through their long snowy fur, except of course on the butt of Felix, which is bald and very pink. I had my doubts as to whether I could apply Advantage directly to the animal skin, but I was assured by my veterinarian that as long as I went against the hair growth and applied the liquid as close to the skin as possible, the medicine would be successful. The shoulder blade location is key because it is supposedly unreachable by cat tongues.

The digestion of Advantage, while not dangerous to a cat’s well-being, is unpleasant and to be avoided. I asked my vet if I could eat it, and she gave me a very strange look.

Once Paul had arrived, been informed of the impending task, and paid five bucks to stay, we discussed which cat would be most cooperative. The obvious answer was Felix; therefore, we thought to do Nala first, so that she would not be alerted to the treatment and disappear. We discussed which methods of capture and procedures of application would be most effective for each cat. Nala would take a quick grab and firm, precise tube positioning and squeezing; Felix could be lulled into a stupor with languorous petting.

During this conversation, we referred to the two as “She” and “He” because my cats get angry if you say their names repetitively. I rose from the couch to pluck the tubules from my pocket, and Nala promptly tore off into her bedroom. She wedged herself under the bed in the farthest corner and laughed at me when I looked under the edge.

So I told Paul we would do Felix first, and to get started with the languorous petting. This took about ten minutes and several handfuls of hair. Paul lifted Felix onto his lap, groaning at the surprisingly solid weight that only a sixteen-pound long-haired cat can have. Felix lobbed his big old head onto Paul’s knee and purred.

We began searching for the shoulder blades. These were difficult to discern through the lumps of over-fed kitty flesh, but we finally identified the location. I squeezed the Advantage tube. Nothing came out. I found that it was not a simple twist-off cap; one had to twist off part of the cap and use it to stab through a small hole in the top of the tube.

This meant I had to turn on the overhead light, at which Felix started to wake up. Snap, snap! and I had the tube open and ready for action. I leaned over Paul’s lap and deftly applied the liquid as close to the skin as possible just as Felix began to struggle and complain loudly.

Felix leapt off Paul’s lap and shook himself, turning his back on us to reveal a thoroughly wet spot on his left shoulder blade. You will note that I did not say, between the right and left shoulder blades. I missed the spot. The licking began, and the tasting of something nasty, and the fussy yowling.

Nala came into the kitchen during this process and watched very intently. I suggested that Paul play with her favorite toy, while I pre-prepared the tube of Advantage for a quicker execution of the act.

Snap! went the tube, and Zoom! went Nala out of the room. We tried to corner her unsuccessfully several times. Felix was smacking his lips and yelling, “What is this stuff on me?”, making things worse.

I finally nabbed Nala in the hallway and carried her to Paul, who was in position in a chair in the middle of the kitchen floor. He was wearing thick black work jeans. I placed Nala on his lap, she placed her back claws in his legs (the cats do not have front claws), and suddenly he was wearing not-so-fashionable ripped jeans, with ripped flesh beneath. He held on stoically, and I approached with the tube.

“Reeeee-aaaaah!” came from Nala’s mouth, a sound unlike anything I have ever heard before in my life, except on Animal Planet when a fierce lioness is bellowing a challenge. She leapt straight up from Paul’s lap, tearing more flesh and pants, jumped through the space between my arm and my body, and landed in the living room floor. Miraculously, she did not run away, but crouched there staring up at me accusingly.

We took a moment to re-coup. Paul cleaned the wounds on his legs with Bactine. Felix came into the kitchen, as he often does. He gargled at me, which he does not often do. I looked down at the strangulated, bubbly noise and saw that Felix was frothing excessively at the mouth. His whole face was slick and wet, and strings of foam hung from his lips to the floor.

At that point I said a very bad word I cannot write here or this website would cease to be PG rated.

I called the veterinarian’s emergency number. The doctor on duty assured me that drool was the normal reaction of a cat who was eating Advantage Treatment. The product is formulated to taste very unpleasant, but the occasional cat will ingest it anyway. He said that the foaming reaction was also normal and would diminish. He mentioned that I would not likely need to repeat treatment; only particularly stubborn, strange, or badly-behaved cats continue to eat Advantage Treatment after the initial adverse reaction.

“That would be Felix,” says I.

The vet promised I could pick up another tube of Advantage at no charge from the clinic for the re-application.

Nala had crept back into the kitchen during this episode. We tried to nab her again and missed. Another attempt to nab ten minutes later, another miss. Several nabs, several misses. We agreed to wait a bit.

Paul went back to his drawing table while I sat on my bed and stewed. Nala climbed up on the bed with me. I reached over, grabbed, dragged her to me, and squirted the tube of Advantage I still held in my hand right between her shoulder blades. The process took one minute. She ran away, and I went into other room to crow of my success. Paul was amazed. He looked down at his railroaded thighs, and his face took on a bit of a surly look. I left him to his drawing.

I strolled past the cat bedroom in triumph. I knew Nala had run under the bed, and I couldn’t help myself. I crouched down on the floor to grin triumphantly at her.

She was not alone. Felix was under the bed, too, licking right between Nala’s shoulder blades and frothing at the mouth.

Story submitted by Nanny Slave, whom Meankitty loves to torture above many things

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Gallery: Felix

Thursday, January 9th, 2014

Name: Felix
Location: Tennessee (at the time)

Felix and Nala

See how we're redecorating the furniture with a silken white mist of fur?

What makes Felix so mean?

Felix is mean because he always beats up his sister Nala. Felix is on the left and Nala is on the right. This might look like they are being sweet and loving, but trust me, they are NOT.

He is a lot bigger than she is so when he whacks her, he whacks her a real good one. There are tufts of Nala hair all over my house like in the second photo. Felix is the big lunk on the left and Nala is on the right. I mean, just check out that look in his eyes! Of course he’s a meankitty!

Story submitted by Nanny Slave. Happy Birthday Nanny Slave

RIP Felix and Nala. Felix is missed and Nala is not all that missed.

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Gallery: Fat & Lazy

Tuesday, December 31st, 2013

Name: Fat & Lazy
Location: Next door to Stupid

Fat & Lazy the Meankitty

I might be a cat, and I might be a stylishly matching couch cushion, but don't sit on me or I'll bite your butt.

What makes Fat and Lazy so mean?

Meankitty likes F&L’s photo, but his or her person did not see fit to include a story. So Meankitty will tell you a little story of her own.

One day Meankitty was sitting on the top of her cat tree staring down at her housemate D. D wanted to be up on top of the cat tree, but Meankitty got there first. So Meankitty made sure no humans were watching and gave D the kitty flip-off to rub in the fact that she was on top of the cat tree and not him. But she still wouldn’t get down and let D have a turn on the top of the cat tree, not even when it was tuna time, because she knew her Human Tuna Slave would bring her tasty tidbit of tuna and put it on the cat tree for her. The End.

And let this boring story be a lesson to future hopefuls in Meankitty’s Gallery: tell your own story or Meankitty will bore you to tears!

Photo submitted by: Jerel, possibly

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Gallery: Foo Foo

Sunday, October 6th, 2013

Name: Foo Foo
Location: Unknown

Foo Foo is a meankitty

Human! Oh, Human! Your presence and your opposable thumbs are required.

What makes Foo Foo so mean?

Foo Foo and her brother Puss are rescues.

[[Meankitty’s note: This means the cats rescued the humans from an otherwise humdrum life.]

Sitting at the door, she looks so demure and sweet like she can’t do anything for herself. But this is one smart cat! She steals the stoppers out of the bathroom sinks and has lost two earrings each from a different set down the drain. The other day I found a plastic cap from a hairspray bottle down there. Lucky for me I could get it out with tweezers.

In the summer I open my windows. Well, Foo Foo stands on the towel bar uses her claws to pull the screen in towards her and lets herself out.

Why she is sitting at the door? I don’t know, because she pushes that same bathroom screen in to let herself in.

Foo Foo

Ha! My humans only *thinks* I lost the earrings down the sink. In reality I've been swapping them for catnip with this tom I met on the street. Sometimes it's a bit hard to transport them without opposable thumbs, but there's always more earrings where those came from.

She is also a biter, but not hard. I think the biting is a form of affection. At night when I am lying in bed reading, Foo Foo lays on my chest and rubs and bites my hands.

Submitted by: Incenselady and her brood

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