The Great Ham Caper

My wife, Stacy, wrote a poem way back in Christmas 2006. It's about us and our cats, Rufus and Sam.

Her poem was got some serious Web traffic, and it's been rerun annually since. Since we moved we have adopted a few more cats.

For auld lang syne, here is the poem again, starring our two cats from Brooklyn, Rufus and Sam:

The Great Ham Caper
Words by Stacy Lynch
Pictures by Mike Lynch

’Twas the week before Christmas
When Rufus and Sam
Hatched a devious scheme
To make off with the ham!

The ham that would grace
The holiday table!
Roo was the brains.
Sam, wiry and able.


They devised a plan
Of Goldbergian proportions
With pulleys and weights
And kitty contortions.

And on Christmas day
They’d eat until stuffed
(The very idea
Made their tails slightly puffed!)

’Til then, they’d lay low,
Little angels to see.
But that made us suspicious –
Wouldn’t you be?


So we snooped and we sleuthed
And uncovered their caper -
“The Ham-Stealing Plan”
Diagrammed on a paper!

“No silly cat’s gonna
Steal my roast beast,”
Exclaimed Mike. “Just watch,
I’ll ruin their feast!”So he countered their scheming
With mad plans all his own
And all I could do
Was inwardly groan!

Who’d win this contest
Of wits they were planning?
Would Mike, Roo or Sam -
Be last man or cat standing?

As Christmas day dawned
The four of us waited
For the ham to be served
With breaths that were bated.

But before the main course
Could even be plated
Their plans took a turn.
Some say it was fated...

What happened to stop them
So cold in their tracks?
Why, cat-nip and husb-nip
(in big canvas sacks)Was all that it took
To stop their foul warring.
And they rolled and purred
And drooled on the flooring.And as long as I kept
My fingers and toes
Away from a hubby and two cats
In nip’s throes -
My own Christmas day
Turned out merry and calm;
The ham moist and succulent,
The champagne, a balm.

When they “awoke”,
hostilities abated,
We all ate some ham
And went to bed sated.

And such peace we wish
To you and to yours:
An end to fighting;
An end to wars.

Happy Holidays!

Mike and Stacy and Rufus and Sam


UPDATE: and Dexter and Dropcloth and Fergus.

Happy Holidays, everyone. It's snowing here, so I gotta get more wood in and then, fire up the snowblower. Such is winter! This here blog will be quiet for a short time. I'll see you soon.

The Great Ham Caper

My wife, Stacy, wrote a poem way back in Christmas 2006. The poem is about us and our cats, Rufus and Sam.

Her poem was got some serious traffic, and it's been rerun annually since. Since we moved we have adopted a few more.

For auld lang syne, here is the poem again, starring our two cats from Brooklyn, Rufus and Sam:

The Great Ham Caper
Words by Stacy Lynch
Pictures by Mike Lynch

’Twas the week before Christmas
When Rufus and Sam
Hatched a devious scheme
To make off with the ham!

The ham that would grace
The holiday table!
Roo was the brains.
Sam, wiry and able.


They devised a plan
Of Goldbergian proportions
With pulleys and weights
And kitty contortions.

And on Christmas day
They’d eat until stuffed
(The very idea
Made their tails slightly puffed!)

’Til then, they’d lay low,
Little angels to see.
But that made us suspicious –
Wouldn’t you be?


So we snooped and we sleuthed
And uncovered their caper -
“The Ham-Stealing Plan”
Diagrammed on a paper!

“No silly cat’s gonna
Steal my roast beast,”
Exclaimed Mike. “Just watch,
I’ll ruin their feast!”So he countered their scheming
With mad plans all his own
And all I could do
Was inwardly groan!

Who’d win this contest
Of wits they were planning?
Would Mike, Roo or Sam -
Be last man or cat standing?

As Christmas day dawned
The four of us waited
For the ham to be served
With breaths that were bated.

But before the main course
Could even be plated
Their plans took a turn.
Some say it was fated...

What happened to stop them
So cold in their tracks?
Why, cat-nip and husb-nip
(in big canvas sacks)Was all that it took
To stop their foul warring.
And they rolled and purred
And drooled on the flooring.And as long as I kept
My fingers and toes
Away from a hubby and two cats
In nip’s throes -
My own Christmas day
Turned out merry and calm;
The ham moist and succulent,
The champagne, a balm.

When they “awoke”,
hostilities abated,
We all ate some ham
And went to bed sated.

And such peace we wish
To you and to yours:
An end to fighting;
An end to wars.

Happy Holidays!

Mike and Stacy and Rufus and Sam


UPDATE: and Dexter and Dropcloth and Fergus.

The Great Ham Caper

My wife, Stacy, wrote a poem way back in Christmas 2006. The poem is about us and our cats, Rufus and Sam.

Her poem was well received, and it's been rerun annually since then. Hard to believe that since we moved we have adopted

• a stray kitten from the milk farm up the road (Trout) and
• rescued another 2 years ago (Dexter) and now
• brought in a tiger cat from our woods (Dropcloth).

Yes, that makes five.

For auld lang syne, here is the poem again, starring our two cats from Brooklyn, Rufus and Sam:

The Great Ham Caper
Words by Stacy Lynch
Pictures by Mike Lynch

’Twas the week before Christmas
When Rufus and Sam
Hatched a devious scheme
To make off with the ham!

The ham that would grace
The holiday table!
Roo was the brains.
Sam, wiry and able.


They devised a plan
Of Goldbergian proportions
With pulleys and weights
And kitty contortions.

And on Christmas day
They’d eat until stuffed
(The very idea
Made their tails slightly puffed!)

’Til then, they’d lay low,
Little angels to see.
But that made us suspicious –
Wouldn’t you be?


So we snooped and we sleuthed
And uncovered their caper -
“The Ham-Stealing Plan”
Diagrammed on a paper!

“No silly cat’s gonna
Steal my roast beast,”
Exclaimed Mike. “Just watch,
I’ll ruin their feast!”So he countered their scheming
With mad plans all his own
And all I could do
Was inwardly groan!

Who’d win this contest
Of wits they were planning?
Would Mike, Roo or Sam -
Be last man or cat standing?

As Christmas day dawned
The four of us waited
For the ham to be served
With breaths that were bated.

But before the main course
Could even be plated
Their plans took a turn.
Some say it was fated...

What happened to stop them
So cold in their tracks?
Why, cat-nip and husb-nip
(in big canvas sacks)Was all that it took
To stop their foul warring.
And they rolled and purred
And drooled on the flooring.And as long as I kept
My fingers and toes
Away from a hubby and two cats
In nip’s throes -
My own Christmas day
Turned out merry and calm;
The ham moist and succulent,
The champagne, a balm.

When they “awoke”,
hostilities abated,
We all ate some ham
And went to bed sated.

And such peace we wish
To you and to yours:
An end to fighting;
An end to wars.

Happy Holidays!

Mike and Stacy and Rufus and Sam


UPDATE: and Trout and Dexter and Dropcloth.

Cat Tail Computer Screen Cleaning

Above: Trout the cat. Yes, Trout is her name.

NEW for the Holidays! Cat-tail computer screen washer! It's safe, it frees up your valuable time and her breath smells like tuna. Hey, if you act now, we throw in the laser eyes absolutely for free!

Related: The cats show us "The Right Way to Sleep:"

An instructional series of photos featuring Sam (B&W), Rufus (orange) and Trout (tiger) demonstrating the correct ways to do things.

Today's lesson: the right way and wrong way for a cat to sleep.

Right way: Sam


Right way: Rufus


Wrong way!


I have no idea how Trout the cat can sleep like this, but it's obviously wrong, wrong, wrong.

This has part of an informative series of cat-related blog entries. Thank you for your kind attention.

Related: Introducing Trout.

Rufus is Recovering

Above: Rufus still has a bit more of the fighter in him than formerly believed.

Rufus the cat, who had a serious dental operation yesterday, is doing fine.

"You didn't tell us that Rufus has a dark side," the vet said, showing me a puncture wound on his hand.

Even when groggy, Rufus was able to injure a couple of people. He's an ex-stray cat from Red Hook, Brooklyn, don'tcha know! You can take the stray outta Red Hook, but you can't take the Red Hook .... well, you know the rest!



Rufus, the lover, in repose.

Cat on the Keyboard

Warm Rufus, bathed in the morning sun coming through my studio's venetian blinds.

Normal blogging to proceed once the cat moves ....

The Great Ham Caper

My wife, Stacy, wrote a poem way back in Christmas 2006. The poem is about us and our cats, Rufus and Sam.

Stacy's poem got a lot of very nice emails, and I've rerun annually it since then. Hard to believe that since then we've moved and found a stray kitten at the milk farm up the road (or, rather, SHE adopted US) and then we rescued another stray just last month.

For auld lang syne, here is the poem again:


The Great Ham Caper
Words by Stacy Lynch
Pictures by Mike Lynch

’Twas the week before Christmas
When Rufus and Sam
Hatched a devious scheme
To make off with the ham!

The ham that would grace
The holiday table!
Roo was the brains.
Sam, wiry and able.


They devised a plan
Of Goldbergian proportions
With pulleys and weights
And kitty contortions.

And on Christmas day
They’d eat until stuffed
(The very idea
Made their tails slightly puffed!)

’Til then, they’d lay low,
Little angels to see.
But that made us suspicious –
Wouldn’t you be?


So we snooped and we sleuthed
And uncovered their caper -
“The Ham-Stealing Plan”
Diagrammed on a paper!

“No silly cat’s gonna
Steal my roast beast,”
Exclaimed Mike. “Just watch,
I’ll ruin their feast!”So he countered their scheming
With mad plans all his own
And all I could do
Was inwardly groan!

Who’d win this contest
Of wits they were planning?
Would Mike, Roo or Sam -
Be last man or cat standing?

As Christmas day dawned
The four of us waited
For the ham to be served
With breaths that were bated.

But before the main course
Could even be plated
Their plans took a turn.
Some say it was fated...

What happened to stop them
So cold in their tracks?
Why, cat-nip and husb-nip
(in big canvas sacks)Was all that it took
To stop their foul warring.
And they rolled and purred
And drooled on the flooring.And as long as I kept
My fingers and toes
Away from a hubby and two cats
In nip’s throes -
My own Christmas day
Turned out merry and calm;
The ham moist and succulent,
The champagne, a balm.

When they “awoke”,
hostilities abated,
We all ate some ham
And went to bed sated.

And such peace we wish
To you and to yours:
An end to fighting;
An end to wars.

Happy Holidays!

Mike and Stacy and Rufus and Sam


UPDATE: and Trout and Dexter.

The Right Way to Sleep

An instructional series featuring Sam (B&W), Rufus (orange) and Trout (tiger) demonstrating the correct ways to do things. Today's lesson: the right way and wrong way for a cat to sleep.

Right way:


Right way:


Wrong way!


I have no idea how she can sleep like this, but it's obviously wrong, wrong, wrong.

Trout Back Home from Vet

Trout is just fine after getting fixed. She's home and is doing well. Her pals (all of the cats and people at home) are very glad to have her back.

Trout to Vet's

Above: Trout (tiger cat) with a look of bliss as her mate Sam (B&W cat) gives her a bath.

Our little girl cat Trout is a little girl no longer.

Trout went into heat sometime around 3am. It was disruptive, and it confused our neutered male cats, Roo & Sam. And there was not much shut eye for the people as well.

We were bad for not getting her fixed beforehand.

Off to the vet she was taken first thing this morning. We will be without our stripey cat with the funny fish name until tomorrow, when she gets picked up, a little groggy with a shaved belly, so we may all return to our status quo.

TGIF from Rufus

Here is happy Rufus (or "Roo" for short) to let you know to hang in there baby, Friday's coming!

Wait a minute. Don't bother. It's here.

Silly Roo! No more blog entries for you until you learn your days of the week! And sit up straight!!! To quote the previous blog entry: posture, posture, posture!

Mike Lynch Cartoon in January 2008 Harvard Business Review

The gang at Harvard Business Review has a great selection of cartoons in its January issue by Tom Cheney, P.C. Vey, Pat Hardin, John Caldwell, Scott Arthur Masear and myself.

One of the nice things about cartoons is that you can sneak in something personal that only you will know about. In this case, it's Rufus.

Please allow for a big digression here where I tell you about Rufus, and how I was wrong and my wife was right.


Above: our beloved Rufus, snuggled in Stacy's fiddle case.

Rufus, or "Roo" for short, is a big, lumbering orange, stripy cat that is built like a bull. Although seemingly bred for combat, he lives for love. He's a very large sweetheart of a feline that loves to be talked to, and receive copious pats upon his huge head and his thick, fleecy tummy.

He was, like all of our three cats, a rescue. Rufus was found, tied to a broken down building with a urine-soaked string. A woman who was passing by, snipped the string and took him away from that building in Red Hook. She took him to our vet's, where he was fed, cleaned up, and put in a cage in the back room. Around his time, we were looking for a new kitty, and we'd gone to the vet's.

"Have you seen the orange cat with the large head?" a vet tech asked.

So we sat in one of the exam rooms with the cat that they all called "Big Head." His head was rather large, but not abnormally so (i.e., none of that the-front-part-of-the-cat-tips-over kinda physics here). He sat motionless on wife Stacy's lap. We talked and patted him a bit. He stayed motionless. After 5-10 minutes, he pooped. Right there on her lap, he pooped. Enter vet tech with towels, apologies and an offer to whisk the cat away.

"Oh, no,"said my wife.

I think she started loving the cat right then and there. I was not in favor of the cat who had obviously never been properly socialized. Stacy theorized that he was near feral and scared (shitless). This was a cat who needed a good home to become a good kitty.

So, we adopted Bighead. We brought the problem cat to our home, where he hid behind a bookcase (living room) or under the bed (bedroom). He would only come out in the dead of night, making his presence known at3am by knocking over the garbage. Garbage, he thought, was where the food was. Amazingly, he used the litter box right off.

Well, after a couple of weeks of us talking to him under the bed, and him just staring, staring, staring back at us, Roo began to walk out a little bit. And he watched us with our other kitties back then: Bertie and Max. He watched us talking to them, playing with them. Bighead stared. He was taking it all in. It took a while, but he began to perceive that our place was a place where kitties were patted and no one was beaten or hit or tied up with a string -- well -- then he relaxed.

One of the first things he did was begin to sleep. He slept like the dead, for what seemed like a month. I guess he had never really relaxed before. Heaven knows what life was like in Red Hook.

Anyway, so I like to draw Rufus. From time to time he makes it into a cartoon and from time to time that cartoon will sell. One of the reasons I like him is his stripes. Rufus has those stripes on his face that makes him look worried, regardless of his mood.

One of the things that he had to "learn" was playing. I don't think he ever played before. Thanks to our guys (especially Max), Rufus learned to play -- that it's OK to swat, run & wrestle in fun.

Hence, the cartoon. I told you we'd get to the cartoon!



This cartoon was drawn nearly three years ago. It was submitted 15 times to other markets and other clients. It sold this past fall to Harvard.

Although, sadly, our kitties Bertie and Max have passed away, Rufus has two new playmates -- both rescues -- named Sam and Trout. I better sell some cartoons featuring them or jealousy will read its big head!

Today's Factoid: Some of the cartoons are in B&W, some are in color. The editor will ask for color. It's not up to us cartoonists.