Size of Treecats

First of all, I hope that the folks from Evergreen Studios are paying attention to these discussions... it won't be easy, but getting Nimitz correct is going to be vital to the movie!!

Second, there have been some very good ideas for the 'proper' look of Nimitz. For what it is worth, I think that the general body form of a Savannah would be a good start. I've always envisioned a treecat as being long and lean - and the Savannah has the general size and shape. Maybe make the legs just a touch shorter (they are arboreal, after all, so they wouldn't have the really long legs adapted specially for moving in open ground areas), and give them a coat much closer in length and thickness to a Maine Coon (again, an adaptation for the bitter winters and overall environment). And of course the body would be a bit more 'solid' and muscular under the coat - that would show their strength and weight/mass.

I haven't really decided about the changes to the head that would be needed. On one hand, it should look very 'cat-like' - for obvious reasons - but on the other hand I think that there should be some subtle changes to make it just 'alien' enough to stand out. I wish that I had the talent to sketch out some of the ideas that I have in my head, but that is not my talent at all.

Hoping that RFC keeps a close eye on what Evergreen is doing, and make sure that the folks over there stay true to the original vision and the story.

phillies wrote:Savannah Cat

Accept no substitutes.

About 2' long. Can jump 8-9 feet up.

I was totally astonished the first time I saw my sister's little cat casually leap to the top of the refrigerator from the floor. I knew she could get there, but I assumed she got there from the counter.

kzt wrote:I was totally astonished the first time I saw my sister's little cat casually leap to the top of the refrigerator from the floor. I knew she could get there, but I assumed she got there from the counter.

I have a cat who can do the exact same thing. She's a dainty, adorable seven-pound bundle of ginger, green-eyed cleverness.

She is also a demon in feline form, except when she's purring on my lap.

I think of her whenever I picture female treecats - slim, willowy, and delicately built, but incredibly strong underneath it.

roseandheather wrote:I have a cat who can do the exact same thing. She's a dainty, adorable seven-pound bundle of ginger, green-eyed cleverness.

She is also a demon in feline form, except when she's purring on my lap.

I think of her whenever I picture female treecats - slim, willowy, and delicately built, but incredibly strong underneath it.

My kitty saved my life a few years ago, when I was still staying in Cape Town. He's a tux-patterned domestic shorthair. Anyways, I was staying in a house just a few hundred meters below the fence of Table Mountain National Park. So one Saturday morning I was cooking breakfast when I heard this weird sound in the backyard & went out to have a look. As I turned the corner, I saw this huge Cape Cobra about three meters in front of me. Just as it was getting ready to spit at me, my kitty came running past me and latched onto the snake's neck. It all happened so fast, but had that snake managed to spit, I'd never have had time to get away. At that short a distance they're awfully accurate and their venom is one of the most potent among African snakes. My kitty gave me a chance to grab a spade to bash the snake's head in.

phillies wrote:Savannah Cat

Accept no substitutes.

About 2' long. Can jump 8-9 feet up.

I prefer Bengals, the other cross with a wild cat:

Bengal (mis) Behaviour!
OK, we admit it! Bengals are not your laid-back lap cat! They are often quite naughty and can be a handful, they are not for the inexperienced or nervous cat owner!

The Bengal is also very intelligent for a cat and needs lots of things to keep that brain occupied, lots of interactive play with toys (like the dragonfly you can find on our store) and if you’re out a lot, another cat is often a great playmate.

Bengals are also very vocal and loud – they will always tell you when they want something such as food or the litter box to be cleaned out (did I mention they can be fussy over these things?). The Bengal miaow is not easily ignored!

Although Bengals can be naughty and loud, they are also great fun and love to play with their humans. They are affectionate and it’s not unusual for them to form a great loyalty to a single member of the household.

Their intelligence means they are easy to train and many react well to clicker training. It’s not uncommon for Bengal owners to train their cats to go for a walk on a harness and leash (we have safe and strong harness jackets for sale in our store).

...

Our bodies are large, lean and muscular with substantial bones. Our back legs are slightly longer than our front ones, reminiscent of our wild ancestors. Our heads are relatively small in relation to our bodies and should be a little longer than wide, with medium to small ears. Our tails are thick and can be ringed, spotted or marbled, but should always have a solid dark coloured tip. Our chins should be light and our whisker pads prominent. Noses are large and broad with slightly puffed nose leather which is often a rich colour.

Even our voices are different to most other cats and we use them often – you certainly know if you have a Bengal in your house, because we loudly remind you often throughout the day! We can be quite fussy about our litter trays, and will refuse to use them if not clean so will let you know when they’re not up to our standards We’ll also remind you when it’s dinner time – you’ll soon stop whatever you’re doing, just to shut us up!

http://www.bengalcatworld.com/home/bengal-cat-facts/

We have two and one of them like to catch flies which can be a problem when she jumps straight up into the ceiling fan chasing a fly. Yes fit Bengals can jump about 8 ft straight up.

kbus888 wrote:=2014/07/09=
Yup, that helps

Thanks

The most intelligent cat I ever owned was a grey mix female.

The damn thing used to follow my kids to the school bus stop most mornings.

"Cherie`was her name and she was an ordinary looking animal except she was polydactyl -- 2 extra toes on each of her four paws.

We had her for 8 years until someone in our neighbourhood poisoned her.

That was the only time I cried for the loss of a pet.

R
.

Did you find a way to track them down, terrorize their home, and give them a lingering death that they saw coming?
(Please say yes, even if it isn't true.)

dreamrider

dreamrider wrote:

kbus888 wrote:=2014/07/09=
Yup, that helps

Thanks

The most intelligent cat I ever owned was a grey mix female.

The damn thing used to follow my kids to the school bus stop most mornings.

"Cherie`was her name and she was an ordinary looking animal except she was polydactyl -- 2 extra toes on each of her four paws.

We had her for 8 years until someone in our neighbourhood poisoned her.

That was the only time I cried for the loss of a pet.

R
.

Did you find a way to track them down, terrorize their home, and give them a lingering death that they saw coming?
(Please say yes, even if it isn't true.)

dreamrider

Dreamrider, I'm not normally a violent person, but when I read that, I too felt the way you do. I sincerely believe that animals are just as intelligent as we are, in many ways. But even if that wasn't true, how can any decent person DO that to a member of someone else's family?

hanuman wrote:

dreamrider wrote:Did you find a way to track them down, terrorize their home, and give them a lingering death that they saw coming?
(Please say yes, even if it isn't true.)

dreamrider

Dreamrider, I'm not normally a violent person, but when I read that, I too felt the way you do. I sincerely believe that animals are just as intelligent as we are, in many ways. But even if that wasn't true, how can any decent person DO that to a member of someone else's family?

Many years ago, when I was young and foolish (i.e., in my late 20s), I had a lovely but very shy little tortoise shell cat. She disappeared one day and I didn't find her for three days. When I did, she'd obviously been tortured by someone for sick kicks. I rushed her to the vet, but it was too late to save her.

I went home. The next day, a young male person (I refuse to call him a young man) who was about 18 or 19 and living with his grandparents because he had no idea who his father was, his mother was in jail, and (I later discovered) he'd been convicted for half a dozen petty crimes of his own, wandered by while I was working on my truck. I don't have much use for stereotypes, but he was, alas, the epitome of what has upon occasion been described as "poor white trash," with all of the negative implications appended thereunto. He had his boom box with him and stood there grinning at me for a minute or two. I ignored him, and after a few more moments he grinned even more broadly than before and said "Did ja find yer kitty?" I looked up at him, and he smirked a little more. "Sure did squeal," he said.

I broke the boom box over his head and bounced his face off the side of my pickup truck half a dozen times. Then I dragged him back to his grandparents by the collar of his shirt, kicked him up the four steps to their front porch, and invited them to call the police if I seemed to have been out of line. His grandfather (who, despite the nature of his grandson was a man who'd worked hard all his life and paid his debts) looked fairly shocked by his grandson's state, but I don't really think he was all that surprised by it --- probably because he'd seen something like it coming for quite a while. He asked me what the hell I thought I was doing, and I explained the circumstances to him. He looked at me for a minute, then turned to the young jackal I'd dragged home and asked him if it was true. The idiot actually bragged that it was. At which point his grandfather asked me to let go of him, apologized deeply and sincerely for the murder of my cat, and assured me there would be no repercussions.

The next day, the kid had been remanded back to the juvenile authorities from whom his grandparents had tried to rescue him. They became good friends of mine over the next year or so, before I moved away.

These days, I'm older and wiser, with a lot more responsibilities which would be . . . negatively impacted by jail time. I'm also a lot less agile and a Methodist lay speaker. Having said all of that, I have no regrets to this day for my actions, although I doubt very much that anything short of a full frontal lobotomy could actually modify the behavior of anyone who would do that to a sweet and gentle cat like Mocha just for the sick jollies of it.

runsforcelery wrote:Many years ago, when I was young and foolish (i.e., in my late 20s), I had a lovely but very shy little tortoise shell cat. She disappeared one day and I didn't find her for three days. When I did, she'd obviously been tortured by someone for sick kicks. I rushed her to the vet, but it was too late to save her.

I went home. The next day, a young male person (I refuse to call him a young man) who was about 18 or 19 and living with his grandparents because he had no idea who his father was, his mother was in jail, and (I later discovered) he'd been convicted for half a dozen petty crimes of his own, wandered by while I was working on my truck. I don't have much use for stereotypes, but he was, alas, the epitome of what has upon occasion been described as "poor white trash," with all of the negative implications appended thereunto. He had his boom box with him and stood there grinning at me for a minute or two. I ignored him, and after a few more moments he grinned even more broadly than before and said "Did ja find yer kitty?" I looked up at him, and he smirked a little more. "Sure did squeal," he said.

I broke the boom box over his head and bounced his face off the side of my pickup truck half a dozen times. Then I dragged him back to his grandparents by the collar of his shirt, kicked him up the four steps to their front porch, and invited them to call the police if I seemed to have been out of line. His grandfather (who, despite the nature of his grandson was a man who'd worked hard all his life and paid his debts) looked fairly shocked by his grandson's state, but I don't really think he was all that surprised by it --- probably because he'd seen something like it coming for quite a while. He asked me what the hell I thought I was doing, and I explained the circumstances to him. He looked at me for a minute, then turned to the young jackal I'd dragged home and asked him if it was true. The idiot actually bragged that it was. At which point his grandfather asked me to let go of him, apologized deeply and sincerely for the murder of my cat, and assured me there would be no repercussions.

The next day, the kid had been remanded back to the juvenile authorities from whom his grandparents had tried to rescue him. They became good friends of mine over the next year or so, before I moved away.

These days, I'm older and wiser, with a lot more responsibilities which would be . . . negatively impacted by jail time. I'm also a lot less agile and a Methodist lay speaker. Having said all of that, I have no regrets to this day for my actions, although I doubt very much that anything short of a full frontal lobotomy could actually modify the behavior of anyone who would do that to a sweet and gentle cat like Mocha just for the sick jollies of it.

I knew I was right. You're a good person.

Thank God you were young, David. I've heard you describe your current firearm resources. Although what you did was better.
Next time we meet, I'm buying a round for Mocha.

Bob Lewis,
aka dreamrider