Suddenly Shiimsa
In the midst of the heavy trial sequence, which is mainly heavy because we have to endure another of the endless series of “Liz and Anthony almost talk to each other” strips, comes Shiimsa, the comedy-relief cat. Unlike the mystical Edgar, who always seems to pop up at just the right time to comfort April, Shiimsa’s mystical ability seems to be to prevent Liz from typing e-mails to her boyfriend, Constable Paul Wright. Perhaps Shiimsa realized that Liz is being cruel to encourage Paul, since she is headed so clearly to Anthony Caine, and is trying to persuade Liz to be kind by breaking things off with Paul. What a good kitty.
Her owner does not appreciate this ability it seems, because ever since Vivian Crane taught Elizabeth how to get Shiimsa in a cat carrier, whenever Shiimsa shows off her power, she gets stuck in the cat carrier as a reward. The message boards for For Better or For Worse were universal in their condemnation of using the cat carrier as a means to restrict the cat. And once again, Lynn Johnston has demonstrated she does not know the slightest thing about cats or taking care of them, and has upset her cat-owning fans, who find it more and more difficult to like the character of Elizabeth Patterson. I suppose from Lynn Johnston’s perspective, in this week’s strip sequence, in which Liz shows how she keeps control of her cat and prevents it from violating the sacrosanct kitchen counters, and how April miserably fails at the same task, Lynn Johnston perhaps intends to draw the distinction between the mature cat-handler in Liz and the immature one in April. Lynn has failed to grasp what most cat owners know, which is cat’s hate those carriers with a passion.
I remember years ago, living in a house in Carrollton, Texas, one day in which my neighbours informed me that they saw skunks in my yard. I was mowing my lawn at the time, and sure enough, I found a lovely hole in the ground which went under my house. I went to the Carrollton animal control people and they loaned me (with a deposit) a cat cage, which is about the same size as a cat carrier, and instructed me to put sardines in the cage, and then check it every day for skunk. I did trap 3 perfectly cute little baby skunks, one at a time, and they were relocated to the same place, where skunks can be happy and free and not dig holes under my house. They were a joy to look at in the skunk cage. They were digging their little claws through the holes in the bottom of the cage trying to dig a way down and out, but not quite comprehending that the metal in the bottom of the cage was getting in their way. They were quite demure and cute.
On the other hand, the neighbour’s cat was also fond of sardines, and on 2 of the days I went skunk trapping I caught the cat instead. The cat was quite a contrast with the skunks. Raging, snarking, yowling, half-crazed, banging its body vigourously against the walls of the cage without ceasing, in an attempt to try to break the cage with sheer feline force. I let the cat out, and it streaked out of my yard like a shot. The first time I caught the kitty, I was sure it would be smart enough not to fall for the same trick a second time, but I was wrong. I remember very clearly how angry that cat was at being caged, and whenever I see Elizabeth putting Shiimsa into the cat carrier because he is trying to be playful and get her attention it brings back that memory. There is no getting around it. Elizabeth is a real bitch to her cat.
As for animal intelligence, I know people like to poo-poo the intelligence of skunks, but after I caught the 3 baby skunks I asked the animal control man if I should continue and try to catch the momma skunk. He said, “Momma Skunk’s too smart to get caught in a cat trap, but she will leave since her babies have gone.” Sure enough he was right. I had the cat trap out for a few more days, and the mother skunk did not fall for the sardines, plus there was no more lingering skunk smell around the house.
Tomorrow’s Strip: John Patterson enters the fray with Shiimsa using oven mitts, which isn’t a bad idea, except it does not give you much of an ability to grasp something. I was always fond of winter gloves when I had to deal with a cat who was in a really bad mood. No one in the Patterson household seems smart enough to call Liz in on the action (perhaps in fear of being put into a cat carrier for daring to interrupt her “work”), and Elly’s usually method of dealing with the dogs (i.e. screaming at them full tilt) does not seem to be able to convince Shiimsa to jump down. I wonder why. At the heart of this situation is the question: Why is Elly screaming at Shiimsa? She can’t expect anyone to believe she uses the top of the cabinet as a cooking surface, can she? I suppose it is a comfort to know that every single member of the Patterson is an incompetent boob when it comes to cats. Liz’s stupidity is clearly genetic.
Her owner does not appreciate this ability it seems, because ever since Vivian Crane taught Elizabeth how to get Shiimsa in a cat carrier, whenever Shiimsa shows off her power, she gets stuck in the cat carrier as a reward. The message boards for For Better or For Worse were universal in their condemnation of using the cat carrier as a means to restrict the cat. And once again, Lynn Johnston has demonstrated she does not know the slightest thing about cats or taking care of them, and has upset her cat-owning fans, who find it more and more difficult to like the character of Elizabeth Patterson. I suppose from Lynn Johnston’s perspective, in this week’s strip sequence, in which Liz shows how she keeps control of her cat and prevents it from violating the sacrosanct kitchen counters, and how April miserably fails at the same task, Lynn Johnston perhaps intends to draw the distinction between the mature cat-handler in Liz and the immature one in April. Lynn has failed to grasp what most cat owners know, which is cat’s hate those carriers with a passion.
I remember years ago, living in a house in Carrollton, Texas, one day in which my neighbours informed me that they saw skunks in my yard. I was mowing my lawn at the time, and sure enough, I found a lovely hole in the ground which went under my house. I went to the Carrollton animal control people and they loaned me (with a deposit) a cat cage, which is about the same size as a cat carrier, and instructed me to put sardines in the cage, and then check it every day for skunk. I did trap 3 perfectly cute little baby skunks, one at a time, and they were relocated to the same place, where skunks can be happy and free and not dig holes under my house. They were a joy to look at in the skunk cage. They were digging their little claws through the holes in the bottom of the cage trying to dig a way down and out, but not quite comprehending that the metal in the bottom of the cage was getting in their way. They were quite demure and cute.
On the other hand, the neighbour’s cat was also fond of sardines, and on 2 of the days I went skunk trapping I caught the cat instead. The cat was quite a contrast with the skunks. Raging, snarking, yowling, half-crazed, banging its body vigourously against the walls of the cage without ceasing, in an attempt to try to break the cage with sheer feline force. I let the cat out, and it streaked out of my yard like a shot. The first time I caught the kitty, I was sure it would be smart enough not to fall for the same trick a second time, but I was wrong. I remember very clearly how angry that cat was at being caged, and whenever I see Elizabeth putting Shiimsa into the cat carrier because he is trying to be playful and get her attention it brings back that memory. There is no getting around it. Elizabeth is a real bitch to her cat.
As for animal intelligence, I know people like to poo-poo the intelligence of skunks, but after I caught the 3 baby skunks I asked the animal control man if I should continue and try to catch the momma skunk. He said, “Momma Skunk’s too smart to get caught in a cat trap, but she will leave since her babies have gone.” Sure enough he was right. I had the cat trap out for a few more days, and the mother skunk did not fall for the sardines, plus there was no more lingering skunk smell around the house.
Tomorrow’s Strip: John Patterson enters the fray with Shiimsa using oven mitts, which isn’t a bad idea, except it does not give you much of an ability to grasp something. I was always fond of winter gloves when I had to deal with a cat who was in a really bad mood. No one in the Patterson household seems smart enough to call Liz in on the action (perhaps in fear of being put into a cat carrier for daring to interrupt her “work”), and Elly’s usually method of dealing with the dogs (i.e. screaming at them full tilt) does not seem to be able to convince Shiimsa to jump down. I wonder why. At the heart of this situation is the question: Why is Elly screaming at Shiimsa? She can’t expect anyone to believe she uses the top of the cabinet as a cooking surface, can she? I suppose it is a comfort to know that every single member of the Patterson is an incompetent boob when it comes to cats. Liz’s stupidity is clearly genetic.
posted by howard at 9:30 PM
3 Comments:
They were pretty well-developed babies, not tiny infant skunks, and big enough to eat sardines and not momma skunk milk. So, I think they were OK. Of course this was back in 1989, so by now, if they are still alive, they are pretty old skunks.
Your raccoon trap story sounds pretty funny. I can empathize a little with your dad. It's no fun to have to have to go get more sardines after feeding the neighbours' cat.
I know there are cat people in The Hive (tm ellcee). I wonder if they have cat person/non-cat person confrontations. If they do, I suppose it's all for naught, as Lynn's anti-cat stance is always what manages to shine through in the strip. Poor Shiimsa.
It's the comedy element I suppose. There are not a lot of laughs to be gained from a purring and contented kitty. So, Lynn must go to the disobedient kitty instead. I always found kitties playing with string or bounding around the house with another cat to be endlessly amusing, but those kinds of things don't play well in a comic strip.
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