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A Cat’s Guide to New Year’s Resolutions

It has been a while since the Little Furry Muse has deigned to share her wisdom…

It has been a while since the Little Furry Muse has deigned to share her wisdom with us, but, it being the new year, she has decided we could do with it. After all, if we’re going to be making resolutions, they should be about her, right?


Greetings, furless mammals.

It has come to my attention that the start of a new year is a time of great stress for humans, and a time at which you resolve to make yourselves better. I approve of this, as I believe that means you will be making yourselves into better cat slaves. However, the Significant Human (SH) has been muttering about things like getting up earlier and eating less sugar. These are not resolutions I approve of, as I see no way in which they will improve my life. She already gets up when I require her to, so what’s the point in getting up earlier? Plus, this Christmas I discovered fudge when the humans were eating it on the sofa, and if she’s intending to give that up then she’ll have to ensure a steady supply remains in effect for me. (Human’s note: no, the Little Furry Muse is not allowed fudge. However, it turns out that she’s a feline fudge-crumb-detector, and also a brazen thief of all things fudge based if you let your guard down for even an instant …)

With this in mind, then, I have created a recommended list of New Year’s Resolutions that will help you be a better human for your cat. If you want to know how to be a better human for your dog, go elsewhere. Blasphemer.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

Human! This is not acceptable! I am in charge here!

1. Sleep with pleasure, dedication, and commitment.
I have noticed that the SH sleeps very poorly. Not only does she not take advantage of the daylight hours for sleeping in a puddle of warm sun, but she does not preface her sleeping by sprinting wildly from room to room. She seems to underestimate the importance of sleep as a way to relax, recharge, and equip oneself to face the world with one’s best paw and sharpest teeth forward. Plus, just when I want to sleep on her, she moves. If she’d just sleep more it would solve all these problems.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

Sleep like you mean it.

2. Keep your coat glossy and your claws sharp.
I dedicate a large proportion of my non-sleeping time to ensuring my coat is groomed to the exacting standard of every self-respecting cat, and use the living room rug to keep my claws well-honed. After all, one never knows when a curtain may need shredding or a gecko catching, and one must look fabulous while doing it. If the human would only devote a similar amount of time to self-care, I wouldn’t need to bring her mice and lizards.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

Thorough grooming is imperative.

3. Eat well and often.
I fear the human, who spends far too much time frowning at her thighs (which are perfectly adequate as a bed for me, so I’m not sure what more she wants), does not understand that food is one of life’s great joys. She doles my packets out in miserable little measures, and uses the dread biscuit dispenser to control night-time feeds. She also refuses me treats other than on exceptional occasions, because I am, according to the evil veterinarian, “round”. He’s no cheetah himself. But apparently being round is undesirable for cats and humans, which I object to on moral and appetite-based grounds. I am healthy and adorable, and I do not need to adhere to the beauty standards of a bespectacled man in a white coat, or anyone else for that matter. And I fully intend to bite him again next time I see him, to ensure he appreciates the level of my disapproval.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

I AM GLORIOUS.

4. Be still.
The SH is not very good at stillness. It’s all tappity-tap at her internet machine, or running around removing my hair from the house for a reason I have yet to understand. The monstrous machine she drags around gobbles it all up, but doesn’t seen to do anything useful with it. It bears further investigation.  But back to the issue of stillness. Often the SH will go outside and stand on the deck looking at the garden with every evidence of enjoyment. I will walk out to offer her the comfort of my presence, and she will give my ears a quick scritch then vanish back to her internet machine again, often with a reluctant sigh. She fails to appreciate that true Zen is achieved only through taking the time to be a little still, a little quiet, and doing nothing but watch the slow movement of life around oneself, feeling the way the sun warms one’s fur and listening to the small and large noises of the day. And, of course, either sitting in the correct position to offer me a seat of utmost comfort, or scritching my ears until I bite her for not stopping two seconds earlier. Both, preferably.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

Sun is everything.

5. Appreciate the little things.
Now this is something the SH is improving at. Most years, she buys me these ridiculous fake birds and strange-looking mice, which I may pat around a little to make her happy, but soon place under the sofa in the Graveyard of Unwanted Things. I mean, I have a garden outside. I can get my own birds. This year, however, she gave me a pompom that she cut off her Christmas jumper, and let me steal three hair ties off the coffee table, after which I played with her and the Other Human. It’s very entertaining – one simply jumps at the pompom and bats it somewhere awkward, then laughs at the humans trying to fetch it back. I think they’d keep at it for hours if I didn’t call an end to the game and walk away. But it seems to bring them much joy, and I admit it gives me pleasure to see them running about. And one does not need to buy fake mice. One only needs a hair tie, a little time, and a little imagination, all of which is much more affordable and much more fun.

a cat's guide to new year's resolutions, self-care, mental health, self-acceptance

Stop with the photos, human. Just bask the glory of my presence.

So there we are, humans. Five things that I have been attempting to impress on my humans, and which I hope you take to heart in the year to come. After all, what use are resolutions that don’t make life better for one’s feline ruler?


It appears I have work to do. And a lot of it.

You might remember that I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions myself, but that Layla does dispense rather useful advice at times. And if you’d like to know more about the Little Furry Muse, she even did a Q&A, and has been known to offer other cats advice on training their humans…

How about you, lovely people? Do you make New Year’s Resolutions? Let me know why or why not below!

cats, Layla, life advice from cats, new year's resolutions, the little furry muse

  1. Lisa Sell says:

    Layla, I bow to your kitty cat greatness, mainly because I have learned it’s easier to worship cats than to try to tell them what to do.

    I’m off to work on this daytime napping thing if Wullie and Feegle will let me. I can hear you sniggering from here.

    1. kimwatt says:

      You are quite right, Lisa. Telling us what to do it entirely pointless, as we will do exactly what we want, when we want, particularly at 3 a.m. when it involves running across the sleeping forms of our humans. I appreciate that you acknowledge and understand the roles that humans must play in a cat’s world.

      Good luck on that napping thing. Heh.

  2. I think Layla has a good deal of wisdom here. I am also guilty of not racing from room to room in a frenzy before I sit down for a while. Perhaps I should change my habits.

    Layla, you may be happy to note that any entertainment we provide for our cats is typically in the form of rubber bands, tiny plastic bags (filled with extra buttons, those extra screws for a wall hanging, earbud cushion replacements, etc) that we could have sworn were well hidden, and crumpled paper that’s headed for the burn pile. No bought toy can compare, apparently.

    1. kimwatt says:

      I would definitely recommend racing from room to room before settling down. It aids digestion, improves the mood, and thoroughly unsettles everyone else in the house, all of which are excellent outcomes. And I’m very happy to hear you provide your cats with such suitable playthings. I don’t know what it is with you humans and your fake animals. We are queens of the jungle and savannah. Why do we want a squeaking purple fish with ribbons for a tail…?

      Also, crumpled paper is a creature in its own right, and MUST BE HUNTED!

  3. Anna says:

    Goddess Layla, you are as wise as ever.

    I resolve to stop calling Pepper “Fatty McFudge” (she is also round, according to our own Dreaded Vet) and to use the scratching post to keep my nails in trim.

    How can I convince Pepper that her resolution should be “stop headbutting the human”?

    1. kimwatt says:

      Thank you. I am indeed both wise and a goddess. I approve of you, human. But I don’t see why you should expect Pepper to stop headbutting you if you call her Fatty McFudge…?

  4. Cynthia E. White says:

    The Furious Muse is, of course, wise in all ways. This message was typed for Ghost Kitty (Formerly known as Theo) by her previous Significant Human. Since passing overvthe Rainbow Bridge, Ghost Kitty stops by from time to time to lecture the nrighborhood cats.

    1. kimwatt says:

      As all Ghost Kitties should. When they set such high standards, they need to keep an eye on things. No telling what these neighbourhood cats could get up to otherwise…

Comment away! (Points awarded for comments involving cats, tea, or baked goods)

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