stopdropandvogue:

Tim Walker’s Pastel Cats

ā€œA lot of people get confused when they see this image. They think it was done by computer, but we actually took pigment powder, mixed it with talc to get the right ice-cream pastel colours, and brushed it into the cats.

The owners were two proud members of the Persian cat club. I can’t remember how I found them, but they turned up in a van, covered in cat fur, and stood breathing down my neck as I took the picture. We were worried about putting all that powder into the animals’ fur, but they said, ā€˜Oh no, they absolutely love it.’ The cats were such vain creatures – they adored being touched and pampered.

We didn’t really think about which cats, or how many, should be done in which colours. We just did each one, and then they had to go back into their cat beds in the owners’ van. I think I lost count of how many were pink and how many were blue, but when we were finished they all came out and looked great together. There wasn’t enough light to do the picture indoors – but, by a fluke, all the cats seemed to gravitate to this clematis at the bottom of some steps. I didn’t arrange them. This is just what the cats did, and they all pretty much stayed where they were throughout. So it’s actually quite a naturalistic portrait – apart from the colour.

At the time, in May 1998, I had no idea how the picture would resonate with people. But it has been the image I’ve been asked about the most. For some reason, people are just fascinated with it – more than any model, house or celebrity I’ve ever shot. Everyone wants to know about the pastel cats.ā€ -Tim Walker

Interview by Leo Benedictus

jumpingjacktrash:

the-real-seebs:

jumpingjacktrash:

dharmagun:

angelbabyspice:

rabbitinheadlights:

I feel like the reason certain dog-lovers insist cats are evil is because they read their body language as if they were dogs. So here’s a very basic guide to common ā€œmeanā€ things cats do that actually aren’t mean at all if you know what they’re thinking.

Rolling and exposing belly- attacks you when touched
Does not mean: Give belly rubs! – haha I tricked you!Ā 
Actually means: I’m playful! If you reach for my belly I’ll grab your arm and bite it because I think we’re playfighting!Ā 

Lazily exposing belly – still attacks when touched
Does not mean: tricked you again!
Actually means: I’m showing you my belly because I trust you. Please don’t break that trust by invading my personal space. I might accept a belly rub if I’m not ticklish and I know you well.

Snapping at you while being pet
Does not mean: I suddenly decided I dislike you!
Actually means: You’re petting me in a way that gives me too much restless energy. Please focus on petting my head and shoulders instead of stroking the full length of my back next time.

Is in the same room but makes no attempt to interact
Does not mean: Ā I’m ignoring you
Actually means: We’re hanging out! I’m being respectful by giving you space while still enjoying your company.

Slapping/scratching your hand when you try to pet them
Does not mean: I hate you!
Actually means: You’ve failed to establish that we’re not playing, or the way you’re approaching me scares me. Be calmer, speak more gently, make eye-contact and blink slowly at me before you try again.

THANK YOU!! so tired of people calling cats evil cos they got scratched by one once when they were 12 šŸ™„ the livelihood of animals does not come down to whether or not you ā€œlike themā€

can i just get on with trying to interact comprehensibly with other humans now i’m anxious about misunderstanding cat social cues

alternates biting with licking: i’m combing out knots in the fur you don’t have, it’s part of the social grooming process

turns back on you: i trust you to watch my back

rubs your ankle and then dances out of reach when you try to pet: hey i was just saying hi, not in the mood for anything else

honestly i think a lot of cat hate comes down to dog lovers being used to dogs submitting, obeying, and being desperate to please them. cats are not submissive and they’re not desperate to please you. you’re not the axis of their universe. they know what they want and won’t put up with being treated like a thing. anyone who hates cats for enforcing their own boundaries is suspect, imo. are they going to hate me for the same reason?

Can confirm. I mean, even though my cat actually does put up with being treated like a thing, etcetera. But she’s weird.

your cat is so big and strong that she knows she could get down if she wanted, whether you wanted to put her down or not. so i think she feels pretty secure about being carried around like a teddy bear. also, she doesn’t let anyone but you carry her.

jumpingjacktrash:

scloutier:

brehaaorgana:

deadmomjokes:

I know cats have a stigma of being evil little robots who care for nobody but themselves. I don’t deny that there are some out there like this. But in defense of the large majority of darling cats who have been given a bad name due to the wicked few, I would like to tell you a story…

I am asthmatic. I’m not as bad as some; my asthma is generally well-controlled, and I don’t have much trouble with it on a daily basis. However, as all asthmatics know, getting sick becomes a nightmare. Even a small cold can turn into a days-long asthma attack, one that is very painful, and very annoying for me and those around me. The asthma cough sounds like an ill seal at best, or an angry moose with a nasal condition at worst. Y’all with asthma, and y’all with asthmatic friends, know exactly what I’m talking about. The bark. The hack. The Cough Heard Round The World. It’s painful, it’s loud, and it doesn’t stop. Even the rescue inhaler can only do so much to calm it. It just has to run its course with the cold.

Well, this week I caught the crud, and in the past few days it deteriorated into The Cough. Last night, I took some NyQuil to try and stave it off for as long as I could, just to try and get some sleep. That meant that for a few hours, I was cough-free. After that, I was still doped up enough to sleep through some of it. However, by 2am the sleep aid had worn off and The Cough woke me up. Since lying down makes it worse, and I didn’t want to wake my sister, I sneaked out of my bedroom into the living room, where I sat on the recliner and proceeded to hack up a lung while I waited for my next dose of NyQuil to kick in. That is when I noticed Simon.

Simon is a Russian Blue with a masterful resting-witch-face and an attitude to match. She (yes, she’s a girl, that’s another story) is old, fat, proprietary, and attitudinal. She isn’t shy about telling you when she is displeased, and does so with a loud shriek and some teeth or claws thrown in. She is convinced she owns the place, and owns all of us in turn. She is particular about where you can pet her, like most cats; and, like most cats, she loves her sleep and hates to be woken up.

And of course, my hacking woke her up.

Attempting to whisper an apology in between bouts of coughing, I noticed she was getting off her perch atop the chair nearby. She stretched, made a little squeaking sound, and trotted over to me.

I expected her to demand petting as payment for having woken her precious sleep, but she did not. Instead, this traditionally cranky dragon of a cat did something that amazed me.

She began to purr loudly, and sat herself directly on my aching chest. She kneaded my sternum softly, and nosed my chin as if to say, ā€œI’ve got this, you sleep.ā€ Even though I was still coughing, and bouncing her horridly in the process, she remained settled on my chest right above my diaphragm, purring loudly so that it vibrated through my ribs. I don’t know what magic spell she was chanting between her boat-like purrs, but within minutes my cough had subsided and I was able to sleep.

I didn’t wake up until about 4:30. When I did, it was to discover that my lap and chest were devoid of Simon’s presence, and I was coughing again. As I started coughing once more, I heard her familiar ā€œI’m hereā€ squeak from the area of the water dish. I heard some hurried lapping, and then her heavy gallop across the floor. She flumped onto my lap again, and resumed her purring and kneading. She had evidently been doing that for the past 2 hours, and had only left to get some water. Hydrated, she had returned to take care of me.

So yes, she has her share of evil, jerk-cat moments, but I can no longer pretend that Simon is entirely heartless. For that matter, I now refuse to believe that about any cat. Just because they act like a jerk doesn’t mean that they don’t love you.

CAT PURRS ARE HEALING MAGIC SOMEHOW AND ITS SCIENCE

ā€œScientists have demonstrated that cats produce the purr through intermittent signaling of the laryngeal and diaphragmatic muscles. Cats purr during both inhalation and exhalation with a consistent pattern and frequency between 25 and 150 Hertz. Various investigators have shown that sound frequencies in this range can improve bone density and promote healing.ā€

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-do-cats-purr/

I will attest, that there is no heating pad as grand as a purring cat, for menstrual cramps.

And no alarm clock more persistent than a hungry one.

hermes is much more snuggly and gets up to much less mischief when i’m having a flare-up. the more miserable i am, the more snuggly he is.

cats aren’t antisocial. they just have their own cat way of being family.