Just to prove you’re not the only one who’s wacko about your furry companion, we’ve rounded up several of the more bizarre entries in this season’s new pet books. These slightly skewed selections may not be catnip for everyone, but they’re nothing to sneeze at.

Is Your Pet Psychic? Richard Webster This might seem a little far-fetched at first, but if you are a real Dolittle wannabe, conversing psychically with your pet may add a new dimension to your communication skills. Webster outlines numerous tests or games that will enhance your human/animal bond while opening your eyes to a whole new world of animal awareness, enabling you, if you are successful, to communicate with animals wherever you go. Lost: Lost and Found Posters from Around the world Ian Phillips This quirky collection of actual lost and found posters from around the world, some in childish scrawl, some neatly typed, somehow transcends its picture-book format to become an oddly moving testament of the universal anguish pet owners and their pets experience, whatever language they speak, when one goes missing. The Cat That Changed My Life Bruce Eric Kaplan And finally there’s an unassuming little gem full of hairball humor called The Cat That Changed My Life: 50 Cats Talk Candidly About How They Became Who They Are by hit comedy writer (Seinfeld and Six Feet Under) Bruce Eric Kaplan. Written and illustrated by New Yorker cartoonist BEK, these cat confessions are shrewd, satirical and wickedly funny. Me-YOW!

Please note that the subtitle of I’m Too Young to Be Seventy is And Other Delusions. Yes, Judith Viorst is well aware that she’s a septuagenarian, and in her hilarious and poignant new collection she has written a stellar set of poems to . . . celebrate? Commiserate? Whatever her motivation, Viorst’s verses are whip-smart and will ring true to anyone entering this decade of their lives. (A noted children’s book author whose latest volume for kids is reviewed elsewhere in this issue, Viorst also wrote collections to acknowledge her 40s, 50s and 60s.) In one of the funniest pieces, Viorst firmly insists that her middle-aged children still need her advice even though it’s now about periodontal disease and tax-free bonds. In one of the sweetest, she writes, Still married after all these years? / No mystery. / We are each other’s habit, / and each other’s history. Readers don’t need to be anywhere near 70 to appreciate such sentiments.

BBC writer and car buff Richard Porter takes another, decidedly different, view of automobiles with his Crap Cars, a delightful photo-and-text rundown of 50 of the more lamentable models foisted on an unsuspecting public from the ’60s to the ’90s. For the American audience, Porter’s coverage might lean too often on European cars, since few of us on this side of the Atlantic would be familiar with the Aston Martin Lagonda or the Maserati Biturbo. But plenty of us know a crap car when we see it (or have owned or driven one), and we know exactly what Porter means when he sarcastically weighs in against such monstrosities as the AMC Gremlin, the Ford Pinto, the Chrysler K-Car, the Chevrolet Citation or the Yugo GV. The VW Beetle also comes under particular heavy attack, which only proves that a crap car can have a marketing life of nearly 40 years. Crap Cars is fun reading and a nice visual spike for nostalgia buffs.

Martin Brady is making out his Christmas list at home in Nashville.

Daniel H. Wilson, a doctoral candidate at Carnegie Mellon University, has a serious background in robotics research. Hence, he’s eminently qualified to offer advice on How to Survive a Robot Uprising: Tips on Defending Yourself Against the Coming Rebellion. This modest-sized paperback nicely splits the difference between reality and farce, with Wilson cuing in his readers to the far-flung advancements that have already been achieved with robotics, then juxtaposing those ideas with droll (if possibly effective) lifesaving remedies for the average human should the ‘bots rise up against us. Wilson cites well-known sci-fi flicks along the way, and he seems to have a healthy respect for Hollywood’s technical vision, even in light of his own insider knowledge. The tips for avoiding oblivion “Escape at right angles,” “Lose the human heat signature” all play out logically in Wilson’s way-out scenarios, but the author also elicits subtle, well-intended chuckles at the same time. (We might laugh even harder if we didn’t pause to think it could actually happen.)

Martin Brady is a writer in Nashville.

Bad Dog, by R.D. Rosen, Harry Prichett and Rob Battles, follows the format of last year’s bestseller, Bad Cat in depicting the very strange behavior of household pets. Or should we say the strange (and sometimes unforgivable) behavior of their owners? Each page features a color photo of a pooch dressed in an outlandish get-up (a bright pink wig, a witch’s hat, a tiara, a football helmet and a striped prison uniform are among the accessories). The photos have captions that try to define the pups’ attitudes, revealing them to be, by turns, a bemused, hostile, embarrassed, feisty, resigned and sometimes very put-upon bunch. “I may be rich, but I still like to sniff a fire hydrant now and then,” sniffs a Bijon wearing multiple strands of jewelry. The photos include submissions by pet owners, which makes us wonder just who really needs obedience training.

Martin Brady is a writer in Nashville.

As a stand-up comedian and, more recently, in his WB television program “Blue Collar TV,” Jeff Foxworthy has gained a reputation for having a little more savoir faire than his redneck peers. That doesn’t by any means put Jeff Foxworthy’s Redneck Dictionary on the highbrow end of comic material. This compendium, compiled by Foxworthy and four other comedy writers, looks for the “punning” nature to be found in “cornpone-speak,” as old words emerge with new meanings. The text is arranged like a conventional dictionary, including pronunciation and usage tips, with each word used “appropriately” in a sentence. Take, for example, intense: “Next time we go campin’, I suggest we sleep intense.” So it goes through a couple hundred entries, which celebrate the stereotyped view of working-class Southerners and their distinctive dialect.

Martin Brady is a writer in Nashville.

In Hypochondria Can Kill, British health journalist John Naish offers amusing, often ironic reportage on strange or little-known maladies that have been cataloged by health organizations worldwide. Naish writes in a style reminiscent of the syndicated column “News of the Weird,” soberly recounting endless varieties of rare but nonetheless legitimate physical conditions, arranged under 17 broad chapters, such as “Love and Sex,” “Headache or Tumor?” and “Sport and Leisure.” Naish addresses how the phenomenon of hypochondria exhibits itself within these contexts, and he lists some of the world’s most famous fakers. Included in this group are Florence Nightingale, Enrico Caruso, Igor Stravinsky and Marcel Proust, with Naish confirming that a lot of hypochondriacs live, albeit nervously, very full and long lives. There are plenty of smirks in the reading here, but more often Naish evokes a sense of incredulity about the strange ways of illness and wellness.

Martin Brady is a writer in Nashville.

Imagine you are sitting down to a late dinner. It’s been a hard day at the office, and you’re ready for some comfort food. "Ring," says the phone. "Ring, ring, ring." You pick it up, because only a friend would call this late, right? "Good evening, may I speak to, Mr. or Ms. (name pronounced incorrectly)?" GrrrrÉ What you need is a liberal dose of Fun With Phone Solicitors: 50 Ways to Get Even! by Robert Harris. Try this response: "One minute please, I’ll connect you." Then press any two buttons in sequence on your phone. After about five seconds, expect the solicitor to say something like "Hello is anyone there?" Ask for whom he is holding, then press the buttons again. At this point, the game will probably be over. It’s highly unlikely that the game will go to a third round but one can dream, can’t one?

Perhaps a dose of history would be more to your liking. How about Non Campus Mentis, the history of the world according to college students, with actual quotes from exams and term papers. Compiled by Professor Anders Henriksson, Non Campus Mentis is relentlessly hilarious. The student authors are, thankfully, anonymous. Of the French Revolution, one opines: "Another problem was that France was full of French people. Dickens made this point in The Tail of Two Sisters, which he required us to read." Or how about this pithy observation on the industrial revolution: "The social structure was Upper Class, Middle Class, Working Class, and Lowest Poor Scum." Or perhaps something from more recent times: "John F. Kennedy worked closely with the Russians to solve the Canadian Missile Crisis." Those damn Canadians, they’re always up to something.

Finally, in an unlikely nod to Miss Manners, one of the Lone Star State’s most unapologetic eccentrics brings us Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette. The Kinkster rails about all that is good and holy in the Friendship State. He offers a guide to Texas dialect: "Remember: Y’all is singular. All y’all is plural. All y’all’s is plural possessive." Or, "Don’t call it Ôsoda’ or Ôpop’. It’s all ÔCoke’ unless it’s Dr. Pepper." Things you will never hear a Texan say: "Duct tape won’t fix that." "The tires on that truck are too big." "I thought Graceland was tacky." Friedman clearly hopes to make some money from this venture, but he says that’s not the most important thing: "As we say here in Texas, ÔMoney may buy you a fine dog, but only love can make it wag its tail.’ "

Imagine you are sitting down to a late dinner. It’s been a hard day at the office, and you’re ready for some comfort food. "Ring," says the phone. "Ring, ring, ring." You pick it up, because only a friend would call this late, right? "Good evening, may I speak to, Mr. or Ms. (name pronounced incorrectly)?" GrrrrÉ What you need is a liberal dose of Fun With Phone Solicitors: 50 Ways to Get Even! by Robert Harris. Try this response: "One minute please, I’ll connect you." Then press any two buttons in sequence on your phone. After about five seconds, expect the solicitor to say something like "Hello is anyone there?" Ask for whom he is holding, then press the buttons again. At this point, the game will probably be over. It’s highly unlikely that the game will go to a third round but one can dream, can’t one?

Perhaps a dose of history would be more to your liking. How about Non Campus Mentis, the history of the world according to college students, with actual quotes from exams and term papers. Compiled by Professor Anders Henriksson, Non Campus Mentis is relentlessly hilarious. The student authors are, thankfully, anonymous. Of the French Revolution, one opines: "Another problem was that France was full of French people. Dickens made this point in The Tail of Two Sisters, which he required us to read." Or how about this pithy observation on the industrial revolution: "The social structure was Upper Class, Middle Class, Working Class, and Lowest Poor Scum." Or perhaps something from more recent times: "John F. Kennedy worked closely with the Russians to solve the Canadian Missile Crisis." Those damn Canadians, they’re always up to something.

Finally, in an unlikely nod to Miss Manners, one of the Lone Star State’s most unapologetic eccentrics brings us Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette. The Kinkster rails about all that is good and holy in the Friendship State. He offers a guide to Texas dialect: "Remember: Y’all is singular. All y’all is plural. All y’all’s is plural possessive." Or, "Don’t call it soda’ or pop’. It’s all Coke’ unless it’s Dr. Pepper." Things you will never hear a Texan say: "Duct tape won’t fix that." "The tires on that truck are too big." "I thought Graceland was tacky." Friedman clearly hopes to make some money from this venture, but he says that’s not the most important thing: "As we say here in Texas, Money may buy you a fine dog, but only love can make it wag its tail.’ "

Imagine you are sitting down to a late dinner. It’s been a hard day at the office, and you’re ready for some comfort food. "Ring," says the phone. "Ring, ring, ring." You pick it up, because only a friend would call this late, right? "Good evening, may I speak to, Mr. or Ms. (name pronounced incorrectly)?" GrrrrÉ What you need is a liberal dose of Fun With Phone Solicitors: 50 Ways to Get Even! by Robert Harris. Try this response: "One minute please, I’ll connect you." Then press any two buttons in sequence on your phone. After about five seconds, expect the solicitor to say something like "Hello is anyone there?" Ask for whom he is holding, then press the buttons again. At this point, the game will probably be over. It’s highly unlikely that the game will go to a third round but one can dream, can’t one?

Perhaps a dose of history would be more to your liking. How about Non Campus Mentis, the history of the world according to college students, with actual quotes from exams and term papers. Compiled by Professor Anders Henriksson, Non Campus Mentis is relentlessly hilarious. The student authors are, thankfully, anonymous. Of the French Revolution, one opines: "Another problem was that France was full of French people. Dickens made this point in The Tail of Two Sisters, which he required us to read." Or how about this pithy observation on the industrial revolution: "The social structure was Upper Class, Middle Class, Working Class, and Lowest Poor Scum." Or perhaps something from more recent times: "John F. Kennedy worked closely with the Russians to solve the Canadian Missile Crisis." Those damn Canadians, they’re always up to something.

Finally, in an unlikely nod to Miss Manners, one of the Lone Star State’s most unapologetic eccentrics brings us Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette. The Kinkster rails about all that is good and holy in the Friendship State. He offers a guide to Texas dialect: "Remember: Y’all is singular. All y’all is plural. All y’all’s is plural possessive." Or, "Don’t call it soda’ or pop’. It’s all Coke’ unless it’s Dr. Pepper." Things you will never hear a Texan say: "Duct tape won’t fix that." "The tires on that truck are too big." "I thought Graceland was tacky." Friedman clearly hopes to make some money from this venture, but he says that’s not the most important thing: "As we say here in Texas, Money may buy you a fine dog, but only love can make it wag its tail.’ "

Looking for gift books that are quirky and clever, but won’t break the bank? This holiday season, table the coffee-table tomes and ponder the powers of mock and droll. From curious anecdotes to far-out-and-funky facts, these four irreverent reads offer plenty of yuk for your buck. The ideal book for the burned-out academic, The Ig Nobel Prizes: The Annals of Improbable Research (Dutton, $18.95, 240 pages, ISBN 0525947531), documents a dizzying array of dubious accomplishments. From research probing the blissful state of ignorance to a study proving toast does indeed fall more often with the buttered side down, author Marc Abrahams offers amusing anecdotes to make readers cackle and chortle, and perhaps even scratch their heads and think. Learn how Professor Andre Geim of the Netherlands and Sir Michael Berry of Bristol University in England employed magnets to levitate a frog, a reptilian rendering that earned them the Ig Nobel Physics Prize in 1997. Flare your nostrils over the awarding of the Ig Nobel Biology Prize to the inventor of airtight underwear complete with a replaceable charcoal filter to remove bad-smelling gases before they escape. (One hopes the demonstration for that one was at least ahem brief.) As editor and cofounder of the science humor magazine Annals of Improbable Research, Abrahams is clearly up to this brain-straining task. A resident of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and an applied mathematics graduate from Harvard, he is father and master of ceremonies of the Ig Nobel Prize Ceremony, the university’s annual honoring of the dishonorable.

You know that saying, “You had to be there?” Now you can be there without all the hassles. In What It Feels Like (Three Rivers, $12.95, 144 pages, ISBN 0609809768), the editors of Esquire have gathered gripping accounts from citizens who’ve swallowed swords, been attacked by swarms of killer bees, or walked on the moon. By turns “grizzly” (“What It Feels Like to Be Attacked by a Bear”), devilish (“What It Feels Like to Undergo an Exorcism”), and debauched (“What It Feels Like to Participate in an Orgy”), this slim volume of the vicarious renders the heights and depths of human experience, bringing readers up close and personal with a plethora of precarious states. Ever wonder how to detect counterfeit bills, make snowshoes from tree branches and strings, or put together a radio from scratch? Tap into those transformative powers with Cy Tymony’s Sneaky Uses for Everyday Things (Andrews McMeel, $10.95, 176 pages, ISBN 0740738593). Author of three books and a regular on ABC’s AM Chicago, Tymony has been creating high and low-tech inventions all his life. A cross between MacGyver and the professor from Gilligan’s Island, he’s penned a compelling collection of clues for getting out of a jam or just passing time on a dull winter day. From changing milk into plastic to constructing a compass without a magnet, this celebration of fascinating gadgets and gizmos is the perfect marriage of techno-geek and tongue-in-cheek. Everyone (well, almost everyone) knows that the chance of getting struck by lightning is 576,000 to 1, but what are the odds of achieving sainthood or dating a supermodel? From the likelihood of winning the lottery to achieving matrimonial bliss with a princess or prince, ponder the finer points of fate with Life: The Odds and How to Improve Them. In this compulsively readable gathering of fascinating stats, figures and facts, anything’s fair game: the glorious (Being Awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor), the gratuitous (Striking It Rich on Antiques Roadshow), and the fortuitous (Avoiding an IRS Audit). Harvard Law School graduate and finance expert Gregory Baer indulges his frivolous side in this breakdown of bona fide chances, from getting away with murder (about 2 to 1 odds) to garnering a Rhodes Scholarship (37,500 to 1).