MSI Press Blog

  Bear and Moo at the water trough, in a better behaved moment Some cats drink from a bowl. Moo sometimes does but usually does not. He prefers the advanced techniques . 💧 Step 1: The Paw Ladle Why lower your face into a communal bowl when you can delicately scoop water out like a tiny Victorian gentleman testing his tea Checks depth Avoids whisker fatigue Keeps an eye on the peasants Creates splashy entertainment 💦 Step 2: The Trough Transformation We once upgraded to a "water trough" for our 6–7 big, thirsty cats -- a large rectangular container where 3-4 of the little guys could enjoy a drink together and where hefty Bear and Moo at least had more space than with a traditional water bowl. Well, after enjoyed a sip with Bear, Moo looked more intently and said, “Ah. A bath prepared in my honor.” Instead of drinking, he climbed into the trough and sat there like a serene, slightly damp Buddha. Because of course he was. And when he got it, he shook himself dry,...

Bear, Moo, Pancho, and Simba   Recently, Pancho, one of our new little kittens, left a surprise in the litterbox: blood. What was going on? He and his brother Simba had been served breakfast together (same food) with the older cats, figuring they were ready to graduate to big-boy status. They were not, and his stomach rebelled.  Why sudden diet changes can cause chaos in the litter box Cats don’t like surprises — especially in their food bowl. A sudden switch, even to a high‑quality food, can leave a cat’s stomach saying, “Whoa, what was that?” Why it happens Cats have sensitive digestive systems. A new food means: Different proteins Different fat levels Different moisture Different texture Different additives or supplements Even one unexpected meal can trigger: Loose stool Mucus A streak of blood from irritation Urgency (not making it fully into the box) A very offended expression How to avoid the chaos If you want to change foods, do it gradually: Days ...

  Moo, unsure about the greater world  Pest control came out and confirmed what we suspected—our house is hosting a full-blown rodent convention. Mice in the walls. One rat. And eight cats… who are absolutely scandalized. These are street rescues. Survivors. Cats who once knew the wild. But when a real mouse scurries across the floor? They freeze. They flee. They look at me like, “You expect us to handle that?” Except for Moo. Moo is the Uncat. Moo doesn’t cuddle. Moo doesn’t play. Moo doesn’t socialize. But Moo does patrol the catio and adjacent room with surgical precision. No fuss. No hesitation. One swift zap, and the mouse is history. That space is his domain, and he keeps it rodent-free. Try to bring Moo into the rest of the house, though? He wails. He trembles. He pleads to return to his post. Moo is a specialist. A one-room legend. Meanwhile, the other cats? They adore toy mice. Plush ones, crinkly ones, feathered ones. They bat them across the floor with glee. T...