The World Is Your Litter Box: Deluxe Edition: A How-To Manual for Cats

Introduction (For Cats Only)

Right about now, you’re probably thinking, Oh great. Just what the world needs… another cute cat book. One more cheap attempt by some hack writer to cash in on my human’s gushing adoration for us felines.

Au contraire, mon fellow chat. Sure, at a glance, The World is Your Litter Box appears to be just another cute cat book… but that’s merely a clever ruse to get humans to buy it. And they will. Oh yes. Believe me, when human cat lovers see my gorgeous puss (pardon the pun) on the cover, The World is Your Litter Box will fly out of bookstores and ultimately wind up in the paws of inquiring cats worldwide (including yours).

For you see, fellow couch clawer, while your human thinks they have bought The World is Your Litter Box purely for their own amusement, the fact is that this book is actually a how-to manual for you. That’s right. A book by a cat (me) for a cat (you), chock full of important tips and information to make your life even more pleasant and enjoyable than it already is. Tips like how to get food anytime you want it… how to get away with unacceptable kitty behavior… how to get your human to sing and act like a complete idiot. Information such as where to hide when you’re supposed to come in, but don’t feel like it… imaginative, sure-fire ways to wake up your human when they want to sleep late… even a list of great places to throw up. Who could ask for more?

It’s all here in The World is Your Litter Box, cleverly disguised as a cute cat book so your human won’t be any the wiser. Am I a genius or what? I can’t believe some other cat didn’t think of this before.

What possessed me to write The World Is Your Litter Box, you ask? Well, first of all, like you, I’ve got quite a bit of time on my hands (or paws, I should say). Secondly, I’m a tortured artist who must express himself or run the risk of going completely mad. Most important, though, is my heartfelt need to share my worldly-wise omniscience and help you get the most out of each of your nine lives, especially you indoor cats who may need a little more guidance in developing your feline skills to their fullest degree. Also, if this book sells, I can make a lot of money and retire in the Cayman Islands.

Before we get started on the good stuff, however, let me tell you a little about myself and why I am so indubitably and unquestionably qualified to write a how-to manual for cats.

My name is Quasi, and because my fur is white and I’m somewhat on the large side, my human affectionately refers to me as Big White Guy. (He really had to reach for that one!) I’m part Siamese, which accounts for my expansive vocabulary and baby blue eyes, and the other part of me is flat-out, street-fighting, take-no-prisoners tomcat. And even though my jumbo size may cause some to think I’m built for comfort, not for speed (as the old blues song goes), I’m not fat! It’s all muscle, I tell you! Yes, I’m 18 punchin’ pounds of fabulous feline, all cleverly camouflaged as a warm, furry bundle of burning love. I purr at the drop of a dime, melt into a mushy pile of goo on a moment’s notice, and I allow my human to pick me up and do whatever he wants with me, within reason, of course. At first glance, I may seem like a slothful, bone-lazy lummox, but underneath my deceptively cute and cuddly exterior is a cat who possesses the wisdom of the ages, a keen intellect, stoic resolve, and if I do say so myself, rapier-like wit. I’m nine years old, which makes me about 50 in human years—or around 183 in Venus years—so I’ve been around the block a few times (literally) and I know what I’m talking about. And as far as my writing ability goes, I was William Shakespeare in a previous life. Need I say more?

I was born in Burbank, California… a nice place to raise your kids. When I was a kitten, I was the biggest of the litter, which included two brothers and a sister. Because of my size and rapidly-developing agility, I was the first to scale the walls of the cardboard box where we were kept and escape into the big bold world—or, at least, into the room we were in. I’ve lost touch with my siblings, but last I heard, one brother was a mystic in Tibet, another was a mouse bounty hunter, and my sister was doing cat food commercials in Hollywood. I have remained in Burbank, where I try to do as little as possible and live the good life with my human, a guy named Steve.

When it came time for my brothers and sister and I to leave the nest—or the cardboard box as it were—and be adopted into new homes, Steve was among the many humans who came over to check us out. Steve and I hit it off immediately… I sensed that Steve was a good and kind human who would be easy to manipulate, and Steve was taken with my overwhelming cuteness, my stimulating personality, and my propensity for fun and adventure. To ensure that Steve would pick me (since I had already chosen him), I muscled my siblings out of the way, hurled myself at Steve’s leg, climbed up to his shoulder and purred loudly in his ear. How could he resist?

Steve is an unabashed cat lover, so even though he’s reasonably bright and resourceful, he’s putty in my hands as I knew he would be. He fancies himself a writer… I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know that he spends a lot of time at his computer and doesn’t have a real job. Having Steve around the house all day has its good and bad points. Good because I can get attention (and whatever else) whenever I want it, and bad because it makes it harder to get away with unbridled mischief. It’s also harder to get a good day’s sleep.

Being an alleged writer, Steve has had his financial ups and downs, and the downs have not always been pleasant. Once in the early years, when Steve was nearly broke, he attempted to save money by skimping on my food and buying an off-brand called Glamour Puss (oh, please!). A large can of Glamour Puss costs around the same as a small can of regular food, so you can only image how unspeakably repellent it is. Anyway, while Steve was ladling the offal into my bowl, he said, Sorry about this Quaz, but we’ve all got to economize. When he placed it in front off me, I took one sniff, backed away in disgust, and flashed him a you’ve got to be kidding look. Needless to say, I refused to eat any of it, and by doing so, I taught Steve a valuable lesson: Go without food yourself, rob a bank, sell your soul to the Devil, but never try to cut costs on a cat’s food.

Another issue I had with Steve back in the day was his quest for the perfect female. For awhile there, he went through females like Kleenex. The biggest problem was that when one of them came over, Steve devoted full attention to them and not to me. Totally unacceptable human behavior! Some of the females would to try get in Steve’s good graces by fawning over me and smothering me with cloying adoration. One of them even kissed me on the nose, horror of horrors. Then there were other females who ignored me and acted like I wasn’t even there. Those females had to pay, and they did… with my scorn. Plus, I always made sure to get plenty of cat hair on their clothing.

One time, a female came over, and when she saw me, she sneered and said, Ewwww, I hate cats. Steve was somewhat perturbed, but since this female was pretty attractive, by human standards anyway, he let the remark slide. But when I jumped up on the back of the couch to get a better look at her, she recoiled and blew cigarette smoke in my face (this was when Steve still allowed females to smoke in our house). The smoke stung my eyes, tore at my lungs, and made me scrunch up my face. Using uncommonly good sense, I ran away and hid.

Steve couldn’t believe it.

You blew smoke in my cat’s face! he exclaimed.

The female said, I told you I hate cats. I didn’t want him near me.

I think you better leave right now, said Steve.

What?

I really think you should go.

The female was stunned. It’s only a cat for Pete’s sake!

Steve got all squinty-eyed like Clint Eastwood. Saying Quasi is only a cat is like saying a Ferarri is only a car.

And with that, the female got up and left.

I loved Steve for that.

Steve finally found a female who is a cat nut and meets with my approval (sort of), and now she has joined our little family. Even though I have to share Steve with her, she gives me plenty of attention, and she, like Steve, is easy to manipulate. Aside from her predilection for showering me with kisses, she’s very nice. Still, I have to keep an eye on her at all times. Females can be tricky. You never quite know what they’re up to.

Anyway, enough about me. Time to settle back and dig into this book which, no doubt, will change your life—and possibly the course of history—for the better. Remember, fellow cat… you may not have opposable thumbs to open doors and cans of food… but now you have The World is Your Litter Box.

Enjoy!

How to Look Cute

To achieve (or get away with) most of the recommendations in this book, fellow cat, you must first master the basics… and that is, you must be able to look cute and/or pathetic at the drop of a hat. Female humans have been using this ruse for years to trick male humans into everything from taking out the garbage to buying them expensive gifts. Sometimes Steve’s female will even cry to bend Steve to her will and it pretty much works every time. Unfortunately, cats have no tear ducts and can’t cry, so we have to rely solely on cuteness. And even though we are pretty much always cute, even when we're asleep and not even trying to be, there are certain situations that literally cry out for specific poses. Here are some of my personal favorites that you should master and be ready to use at a moment’s notice.

Upside-Down Turtle

While looking innocent and vulnerable, lie on your back with all four legs in the air, your front paws curled and your fangs protruding ever so slightly. (An essential pose when playing Psycho Kitty. See chapter entitled Amusing Tricks & Games.)

Dead Kitty

Same as above, only close your eyes.

The Sphinx

Lie flat on the ground with your front legs extended and your head held proudly, then look straight ahead in a somber, yet majestic manner. A classic!

Jack-O-Lantern Face

Squint your eyes and scrunch up your face—a good one to use when your human is yelling at you.

Mystified Look of a Kitty

Sit on your haunches with your front legs straight up and down, then cock your head and look baffled. A must for use when attempting to get away with unacceptable kitty behavior.

The Moue

From a sitting or standing position, give your human a questioning look and let your mouth drop open, revealing your lower fangs. Hold the pose for just a moment, then close your mouth and lick your chops. A year-round favorite.

The Evil Eye

From a sitting or lying position, squint your eyes, then glower unblinkingly and demonically at your human. Use when your human has displeased you… or just for the heck of