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1030 days ago

My cat is too smart for his own good. He is capable of opening doors, regardless of whether they are locked or not. Unlike my girl cat he repeatedly gets on top of the high cabinets and get into ALL sorts of mischief. He's an orange tabby and I heard that they are easygoing and mellow. Hopefully this is the case cause he's driving me nuts.

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1073 days ago

I have a Rodisian Beagle Mix who had a very sensitive stomach. He's about 45 lbs and not over weight. We have tried all kinds of dog food for him, even resorting to the homemade dog food for a while. We finally fried Purina One and his stomach has never been happier. Also the food is cost effective and they even have coupons to makes it even more affordable. I'm so thankful for this dog food. We even considered having to give him up because of the tummy troubles. Now we get to keep him. Thank You!

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1120 days ago

I've bought this brand for several years now. Just recently stopped because it looks so bland. It's good for the price and fills my fur babies up. In retrospect, it just looks plan nasty and unhealthy. I want my dogs to live a long and happy life. I'm not going to make them eat something that looks so unappetizing.

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1139 days ago

Cats are considered as sweet but pure devil companions I must say. It's just that cats have such behavior that is too hard to understand. They rub themselves or lick you as if they're asking for your attention. But sometimes, they can be pretty aggressive or just too playful that they just jump at you out of nowhere then, scratch you and bite you! But behind all these funny and "bloody" sensation and epic scenarios with your cat, you simply end up with a contended smile of having a fascinating pet cat in your house.

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1262 days ago

A cautionary 3 Stars.

Of course, having a cat is an impossibility. I have two Beagles who go insane if I so much as whisper the words "kitty cat". They know what cats are and will chase them up a tree or over a fence when they have the opportunity. Basically, it's the cats' fault. If they would just sit still, my girls will check them out, give them a once over with their noses, lose interest and move on. But, if the cats bolt, well, that's an entirely different story. Nature has provided cats with some formidable defenses; speed, the ability to leap, four Freddy Krueger paws and badass teeth.. Cornered, an adult cat would have no problem discouraging my girls. Cats are born fighters, while Beagles are not. But, catching a cat will always be their wet dream. In the end, it's not something I'm concerned about, since I can't think of one sane reason why we would ever get a cat. With tons of acres to hunt and roam around on, the only thing they know about little furry critters is that they MUST die.

Ooops. Forgot about someone: Stark. She loves cats. I have lived with cats in the past and I have liked some of them. But, I have never loved a cat. My birthday was last week. The Big 65. I was treated to a nice dinner, a box of South Park wind-up toys (Lord, I have no explanation for that, but they will come in to play, later) and, yes, a tiny, 12-week old kitten. Size-wise, the kitten is to my dawgs what my dawgs would be to a horse. With the risks fully laid out, we proceeded cautiously.

Of course, it is the cutest little thing I ever did see and like ALL cats, has an amazing face. When it was time to bring it inside, I suggested that Stark wrap the little bugger in her sweater and let the dawgs discover her for themselves. Smell comes first and the girls knew something was up. When Stark revealed the not-so-little secret to them, they went in to full attack mode and had to be harnessed and leashed. But, they both reacted differently. Monica was more curious, as I predicted she would be. I let her get in close enough to smell. Sophia, who is the more formidable hunter of the two, would have killed the kitten given the chance, for no other reason than that is what she does with furry little animals. For two days and nights, the girls were on high alert. This has always been their unchallenged territory. Sophia's heart raced, she panted for hours, even into the cool of the evening and, most noticeably, her eyes were glazed over like a killer in waiting. Keeping them separated was mandatory.

Slowly, the girls saw us interacting with the kitten and from time-to-time I let them in close to check her out. Still leashed, we would let the kitten loose to explore. The girls whined, panted, plead and tugged...always on high alert. They stopped eating or taking treats. They pulled me on my bike like sled dogs as we approached the house. When I felt it was time, I let Monica loose to explore the new yet-to-be-determined family member and, while her size did intimidate the kitten, she did okay. Eventually, on the third day, I let Sophia loose, but stayed on top of her. She would rush the kitten, which we dissuaded her from doing. Sometimes the kitten would bolt to safety, sometimes she would surrender to Sophia's nose and sometimes she would put on her War face, hiss and strike with her paws. We would hold the kitten and invite the girls to come and join us.

By the fourth day, the panting and aggression began to subside and the girls took a wait-and-see attitude, following the kitten around and watching her every move. That night, the kitten climbed up onto the sofa and curled up with Monica. Nice. Sophia allowed the kitten to crawl over her. Last night the three of them slept together on a bed. In spite of a few nights of lost sleep, the adjustment, while a concerted effort, went smoother and faster than I had imagined it would go. And the kitten likes to bat around the South Park toys as they scoot across the floor.

There are two things I am concerned about. The first are those little fuckin' claws...ten of which latched onto my bare foot as I was relaxing. Hoping that learning curve is as short as the girls' adjustment to having the soon-to-be-full-grown-messenger-of-terror around. The second has to do with the garbage can in the kitchen. While we're home, the girls don't mess with it, but, as a video camera has proven time and time again, if we don't move the can into the laundry room when we leave the girls alone, we will return to an overturned can and a swath of garbage that makes it across the kitchen and into the living room. We haven't left the three of them alone yet.

So, when that time does come, for her own safety, we have decided to put the kitten in the garbage can before we move it to the laundry room. Kitty's safe. Garbage is safe. Makes sense to me.

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