How to Catch Tuff Ghost

He’s a skittish little critter, but if you try really hard you can catch him and pick him up and give him a good squeeze.

There are three things to remember when trying to get him.

1. Look up!

This advice was born out of a mistake. I told a friend to “look up” for something but he was already focused on chasing a cat. He thought the advice was for the cat-catching. Oddly enough, it helped. When Tuff Ghost thinks you aren’t looking at him, it’s easier to get near him. Just look away and inch closer with your arms at your sides.

2. Accept a Headbutt

Tuff Ghost shows his love with soft little headbutts. If you hold out your fist and he gives you one, he is probably comfortable with you getting close enough to grab him. It will still be a struggle though.

3. Distract with Food

If all else fails, grab him while he’s eating. Nothing distracts him when there is a hearty bowl of kibble in front of him and he is easy to catch. He sure won’t be happy about it but since Tuffo never scratches, there isn’t much to fear about bothering him a little.

Tuff Ghost

Traveling with Haircut

When we decide to bring Haircut on a trip, the first thing we do is get our gear. That gear is a backpack, with which to carry her. That backpack is a High School Musical children’s backpack that someone gave to my sister; she didn’t want it.

The backpack made a convenient carrying case for my cat supplies. Flea and tick medicine, treats, and other accessories found their home in the HSM bag for a while. Until one day, we decided to bring Haircut on a journey next door.

When Haircut sees the bag, she knows what’s going down. She runs immediately. It takes a little effort to catch her, then even more effort to coax her into the backpack. She tries to cram her little head out of it while I zip it shut usually, which makes me terrified.

Once she is secure in the backpack, usually with a little blanket or something, she basically acts like a limp noodle. She stops moving and doesn’t make a single noise while I carry her to her destination. I suppose she is terrified, but comfortable. Her little ride is usually just taking her to the next floor or the apartment next door, so it lasts about 90 seconds.

When I get to where we’re going, she immediately starts to frantically try to free herself from the backpack. It has not held up well, there is a big hole in it that can almost fit her little head now. Once I move the zipper even the tiniest bit, she crams her head back out the bag right away and pretty much launches herself into whatever room we’re in.

She does the typical cat thing once free in a new place: she smells everything possible and rubs her butt on every corner. She does this until done or until bored, then she naps. This is what traveling with Haircut is like.

(or, Confessions of an Obsessed Cat Hoarder)