Animals

Miss Sugar looking at the camera from the end of a bed with a comforter that has a leaf pattern on it

Miss Sugar Writes: Sensational, Selfless Teen

Oh, my pretties, my little heart is so full of joy! Not only because a fresh holiday wreath has been affixed to the front door where its pine needles will surely drop and be tracked into the house. Then I can complete my annual ritual of chewing them up and then throwing them up. It’s our own little holiday tradition! But the real reason is because of today’s story that I can’t wait to tell you. It’s about a young girl I’d love to meet and leave clumps of my shedding coat upon. She is my new heroine, And she’s not even a cat!

Authentic CommuniCATion

Hello my little tummy ticklers! Thank you for visiting. I don’t want to bum you out (or as we cats put it, butt you out) but today’s post will take a more serious, personal tone. Don’t worry, though. All is well, I merely want to share an authentic slice of life with you.

Miss Sugar's face and paws as she continues a deep sleep

Miss Sugar Writes: Allergen-free? No, Not Me!

Greetings my little coat shedders! Thank you for returning to my cozy corner of the blogosphere. I’m happily curled up on what Mother calls the “cat barrier” to the guest bed. The silly woman doesn’t realize that this fleece throw is one of my favourite things! What’s meant to keep the bed free from my dander is making me as happy as can be!

night timei picture of a coyote snipped from the video embedded in the story

Miss Sugar Writes: Cat Beautiful, Coyote Ugly

Hello my little whisker twitchers! I trust you had a safe and spooky Halloween and you’re working your way through the leftover candy you stashed before the kiddies arrived! That’s how it plays out around here, anyway. Father insisted that peanut butter cups must be part of our offerings. Come Halloween, like magic, there were no cups to be found!

blue Le Mans convertible with a white ragtop. A huge care compared to today's models

Ready to Rumble

Greetings my little plant nibblers! Thank you for coming to my little patch of the interweb. Last week, one of Father’s fondest wishes came true and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. No, he didn’t win free pizza for life. But he did get something else he’s always wanted. It’s big and blue and noisy to my ears.

Miss Sugar’s Lament

Greetings my little nap-lovers! Did you miss me last week? I certainly missed the human bean known as Mother while she was away. Although Father is my obvious favourite, she is the second most important bean in my world. We’re not a complete family unless she is here, too. When she finally arrived home in the middle of the night, I ran toward her mewling as loud as I could, to show my happiness. It was a sweet reunion. So now we can get back to the business of blogging.

an extreme closeup of Miss Sugar

Miss Sugar’s Definitive Guide to Cat Training

Hello my little toe stretchers! My human bean Mother is currently narrating an audiobook about training filthy dogs. Being the optimistic, inquisitive person she is, she has asked me to explain how to train a cat. “Go to the source” as her journalistic instincts continue to guide her. She doesn’t ask much of me, really. So, I decided to comply. What follows is my complete guide to training a cat.

Miss Sugar looking relaxed, lying down in the corner of the couch

The Subject of Gossip

Today, my little insect trackers, I have happened upon some famous words from famous people, about cats. I have much to say about what has been said! So the sayers shall have their say, following which I will offer my commentary. Are we clear? Excellent. Let’s begin.

close up of Miss Sugar where her drooping belly is obvious

Stop Looking at my Tummy!

Today, my little bowl lickers, we’re going to attack a fallacy about our bodies with all the energy of a kitten tackling a dangling feather. I’ve heard the comments. I know you think I’m full-figured. And I suppose it’s true. But you need to know that part of my pleasing shape comes thanks to Mother Nature, not evenings spent gorging on Twinkies.