When our cat Chester is hungry, he meows a lot. A whinny sound that’s like the screeching of chalk on a blackboard.
He knows he’s only getting three feedings a day and when one of those times arrives, you can’t get the kibble in his bowl fast enough.
Fortunately, he hasn’t learned the complaining tactics of other cats and dogs who act like prisoners ready to riot because they’re hungry. And since I don’t want our pet to get any ideas, I’m not showing Chester the videos that are on the internet for him to mimic.
As you’re not Chester, here are some obnoxious animals for you to watch whose owners may want to put their pets behind bars.
You do have to give these pets credit. Whether they’re using non-verbal or verbal cues, their message is clear. Feed Me!
If you’re a parent, you can relate. Kids act the same way. Then comes the question; would you rather have your pet or child behave this way? Then again, you may not get a choice if you have both.
Aspirin is in the medicine cabinet.
I Spy a Cat
In the spring of 1949, British author George Orwell’s dystopian novel, 1984 was published. It is a look at a land where BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU all the time with the help of a telescreen; a device that can never be turned off.
The telescreen feeds video and audio the state wants to brain wash its citizens with and also happens to be spying on them.
Less than a year after his classic book came out, Orwell was dead at age 46 from tuberculosis. If he knew then what we know now about surveillance apparatuses, Orwell most certainly would have made Oceania, one of three totalitarian states in his story, an even more dire place.
Over seven decades since the release of 1984, the real world has surpassed the technology of fictional Oceania. China in particular has raised the art of spying on its citizens to an unprecedented level. But the tools they use are not unique to the communist state.
Cameras and microphones, not to mention computers, are everywhere in the world. They’re used by governments, law enforcement, security firms and businesses of all sizes. Even citizens have access to the machinery of surveillance, something Orwell may not have thought possible.
Whatever word you want to use; monitoring, surveillance, spying or some other term, we all have the tools to be Big Brother in our own way.
How do you feel when you see cameras pointing at you? How would you feel if you found out some were in your own home and you didn’t know it?
While most people focus their surveillance gizmos on other humans, that’s not always the case, as one cat found out. You think I’m full of beans? I’m not.
Beans the cat was wandering around his home while his owner was at work, when he came upon a spy camera.
Intrigued by the discovery. Beans first sniffed the camera, then pawed at it while his owner controlled the device to keep the pet in range of the lens. Eventually, Beans got bored and walked away.
The caption on the reddit post said, “Looks like my cat Beans found the pet cam I set up to spy on him from work.
What wasn’t said is why spy on Beans? Is it just for amusement by his owner or is Beans doing something he shouldn’t be?
“Do you have a spy camera turned on me,” out cat Chester asked.
“No,” I said. “There’s little entertainment value in watching you sleep most of the day.”
“Beans’ owner must be pretty bored on the job to have a spy camera on his cat,” Chester said.
“Or Beans is getting into trouble,” I countered. “What type of mischief do you think that tabby is up to?”
“Could be anything,” Chester advised. “Cats are like teenage humans, they do things they shouldn’t.
“Beans may have found a way to get into the refrigerator or pantry for some unauthorized meals,” Chester reasoned. “But I’m guessing if Beans is bored being by himself most of the day, he could be staging wild cat parties and trashing his owner’s home. I’ve seen it before and it’s not pretty. A cat party makes the one’s Caligula threw look tame in comparison.”
“How so,” I asked.
“The usual stuff but taken to an extreme,” Chester replied. “Tons of catnip, kibble and other cat delicacies, laser pointers, string, live birds and rodents (small of course), cat porn for those spayed and neutered and lots of hanky-panky for those that haven’t gone through that trauma. Then you have all the destruction caused by scratching everything in the house. When the party is over, it looks like a crime scene.
“The felines always scram before the owner returns home, leaving the house cat to explain what happened. You think Pinocchio’s nose is big, wait till you hear the excuses a cat will make. My favorite was that there was an indoor weather phenomenon similar to a tornado.
“After the owner is done talking to the insurance company, the only recourse is to get a spy camera to catch the cat in the act.”
“I guess I’m lucky someone is usually home with you,” I said. “So, it sounds like you’ve been to some cat debauchery parties.”
“Before I went to prison, yes,” Chester said matter-of-factly. “Those were the good old days.”
“And now,” I inquired.
“I’m as innocent as a kitten,” Chester said, trying to keep a straight puss.
“I’m having trouble believing that,” I responded.
“Cross my heart, hope you die,” Chester said as he crossed himself, which I found interesting since Chester only believes in Bastet.
“Hope I die,” I exclaimed.
“Well, I don’t hope I die,” my suddenly righteous cat replied.
“Obviously you’re not trashing our house, but what are you watching on the computer,” I asked.
“Shakespeare plays and Cat Stevens songs,” Chester quickly countered.
“Really,” I said in disbelief. “How about I check the search history on the Dell?”
“It’s erased,” Chester said sheepishly.
“Erased,” I yelled. “Now I’m going to have to change the password.”
“Fine with me,” Chester said nonchalantly.
I was suspicious of our tabby’s response. It didn’t sound right that he could care less if I was denying him access to whatever he was observing on the World Wide Web.
What I didn’t know was that Chester had hooked up a spy camera recording the computer and keyboard so he could see what the device’s new password is every time I change it.
Maybe I should change Chester’s name to James Bond.