A Week With Pilchard

Ugh. Mom and her flashy box. She had the "bright" idea to take a photo a day and show you how life is for me. She will tell me that in her "next life", whatever that is, she's coming back as a housecat.

A week ago Sunday, mom did laundry. She brings it upstairs and dumps it in the middle of the bed.

There's usually enough for both Mija and I to make nests for sleeping.

On Monday, we start a week of mom going to work. She gets up and wanders into the kitchen. I race ahead and hop up onto the footstool.

From here, I can see the kitchen and mom's attempts at breakfast. Plus, I can remind her not to leave the house without ear scratches and treats.

Mija and I go back to mom's bed where we spend the day while she's working. When she comes home, Mija hops down and goes to greet mom. I wait. Here's where I was on Tuesday.

I know she'll come back here to find me. This is my spot.

Wednesday morning, mom made frozen waffles and sat down to read and eat her waffles before getting dressed for work. I decided some supervision was in order.

Waffles are not as good as treats. Maple syrup makes my fur sticky. How do humans eat that stuff?

On Thursday evening, there was a nice breeze coming in through the window. We've had a lot of birds in the trees outside the window so I like to watch them.

Mom had to leave early in the morning on Friday. She said she spent a lot of time in the car. I don't like to go anywhere in the car so I don't know how she can spend all day with that thing. When she came home, she gave us extra treats because she was gone for a long time.

With the change of seasons, mom gets noisier on Saturdays. She will, sometimes, watch this stuff called "football" on TV. I can sit in her lap except she gets very excited when her team scores something called a "touchdown". Mom will cheer and try to jump up so lying in her lap is useless. I go to the back of the recliner.

She calls me her "Hawkeye cat". I don't know what that means but I do know this blanket is so soft and I like to lie on it. I just wish mom wasn't so noisy.

On Sunday, it was combing time.

I had a nasty hairball last week. It scared me so much that I stepped in it. That meant I had to get my feet washed which was most unpleasant. I got shut in the bathroom while we cleaned my toes. Then I ran under the bed while mom cleaned up the mess in the hall. I was so embarrassed. She combs me about once a week, but said that probably wasn't enough so I have been combed every 2-3 days. She keeps telling me how pretty I am and, actually, rubbing my chin on the comb does feel nice.

So, that's my week. What's your week like?

Love,

Pilchard

I Fail to See a Problem Here

Ah the joys of summer. I like to stretch out on mom's bed.

Mom, pretty much, lets me lie wherever I want, except when she goes to sleep at night. Then my sister and I have to make room for her. /sigh

Last weekend, mom got a new washer. All this new noise in the house and banging and voices we didn't know made us hide. When we came out of hiding, my sister and I went to mom's bed. It's a comforting place to be. Mom wanted to take a nap after she did laundry with her new washer.

HA! She just threw up her hands and wound up taking a nap in the recliner in the living room. I fail to see what the problem is. I have my spot and Mija has hers. Mom has other places she can nap.

Love,

Pilchard

Spring

It's finally spring here. Mom washed the inside of some of the windows and then threw them open to let the breeze go through the house. A couple she washed were in her office. I like the smell of spring breezes. An open window was so irresistible.

Mom couldn't see me at first because of the way the windows are divided. She got a little worried I'd jumped off the deck. I'm not allowed to do that. No mom. I'm right here.

There are so many smells. I'm just checking things out. Are you going to come out and wash the outside of the windows so I can really see out when I sit by the window?

I explored the deck railing just a bit farther from the house.

Mom said this was as far as I could go. Actually, this is fine with me. There can be some loud noises, like the motorcycle of the guy who lives next door, that scare me. Mom gave me a combing today too, to help get rid of my winter coat and the breeze through my fur was really nice.

After awhile, though, I'd rather be closer to mom so I can have ear scratches, so I came inside.

She said the window will stay open unless it gets too chilly for her so I'm welcome to stay here all day. My sister isn't interested in going out on the deck. She would rather sleep in the chair on the other side of mom.

Hooray for spring! How is it by you?

Love,

Pilchard

New Whatever

Mom bought this new thing for us. Mija got to check it out first.

Mom ripped the plastic off and put it on the floor. That center area has catnip on it and it's just like the scratching boxes we have. Once it was on the floor, I got to have a sniff.

It smelled so nice. I'm not sure what it's for though. Mom made that white thing go around and around but I don't get why. Then it dawned on me. I know what this is for!

Makes sense, right?

Love

Pilchard

Bauxes, Boxes and the Internets

This article from Wired online magazine, "Why Do Cats Like Boxes So Much",  has been all over the Internets lately. Since the Internets is really tubes for us felines to traverse, we've had to step all over this.

Science doesn't really know why we are attracted to boxes, what is, as the author says, their "gravitational pull" for us.

It's hard for scientists to test us. Unlike dawgs, we don't tend to cooperate long term. I mean, really. Come when mom calls? I know where I am. I don't see the point in moving when I'm comfortable. So, trying to figure out why we like boxes or any kind of container is a chore for science.

The latest research suggests that boxes provide a secure feeling mainly when we're under stress.

This study was done on cats in shelters, not on those of us who have homes. (Why any feline is not in a home is beyond me, but I know I'm lucky.) The study suggests that because we're not good at resolving conflict (Ask mom about that. Mija was in my space, I tell you.), a box represents a place to go to be away from the other cat, a place of security.

But there's this cat on the Internets; Maru is his name. He doesn't look stressed when he jumps into a box, which sort of breaks apart the idea that we only like boxes when we're stressed. Personally, I like boxes all the time. When mom has to get rid of boxes because they are all over the place, I am really stressed. THAT'S stress, I tell you.

Another study found that we like the temperature warmer than your average house. That would explain why we like the pools of sunshine we find around the house. A baux is an insulator and helps us retain our body heat.

All of this is nice but what I think is that boxes are just cool.

Big ones. Small ones. In-between ones. If they are the right height, I can rest my chin on the edge and just watch. Read the article and tell me what you think.

Love,

Pilchard

What Do You Want Me to Do?

Mom went to the grocery on Saturday. We got a blizzard through here starting on Saturday night and she couldn't get out on Sunday or Monday morning until the neighbors came by with those really noisy machines which opened up the driveway so she didn't have to shovel.

It's fine when the noise is in the driveway down by the street. I'll even sit in the window and watch. But when they get up near the house, well, both Mija and me will go hide to get away from the noise.

So mom brought home a bunch of these paper bags.

She likes using them when she cleans our litter boxes because they sit upright. She dropped one on the floor for me to sniff.

There were some interesting smells. I sniffed all around the bag.

So now what? It's a bag. I've sniffed it all over. I even went inside to sniff, but it's boring in there. Mom says I'm silly, that cats love paper bags. Meh. Whatever.

Do you like paper bags? Am I missing something here?

Pilchard

A Day In My Life

When momma gets up, this is where she usually finds me.

I'm on the bottom corner. It's my spot.

Sometimes, I have to walk up to her ear and meow, repeatedly, loudly, because there's this problem in the kitchen.

Isn't this horrible? Momma sometimes just scratches my ears and tells me "it will be okay. You won't starve. I'm tired", and then she rolls over and goes back to sleep. Oh the horror. But I endure and she gets up.

She heads for the shower (What is with humans who HAVE to stand in water!?) and I go into the living room to wait.

Her friend, Chris, sent her a bunch of things that came in nifty boxes. I have claimed this one. She'll mess around in the kitchen to make breakfast so I move from the box to the cat tree.

I just sit and wait because I know what comes next.

It doesn't matter if it's a week day, when momma goes off to work, or the weekend, when she decides what task to do after breakfast, it's always the same.

TREATS! Sometimes I jump down off the tree and take my treats on the bottom. Sometimes I take them on the shelf where I was sitting.

During the weekends, when momma is home, she does a lot of things in the living room. I like to supervise her tasks.

There is the added advantage of being right at ear scratching height, too. But all this attention can be annoying so I let momma know that I'm tired of ear scratching and she can supervise herself.

Eventually, I move back to the bed and get really comfortable.

The tail goes one way, with room to move, and my feet go another way, with room to stretch out.

On weekends, momma does laundry and that means I get to sleep in the clothes.

Momma's nice that she doesn't care about furs on clothes and she'll even tell me, when she dumps the clothes on the bed, "Here you go, Pilchard."

Sometimes, momma will clean and use the bed to sort things, like she did on Monday night.

She had all these really nice piles of paper on the bed. Mija and I simply could not resist.

After a day of naps, more naps, food, nap, and ear scratching, momma will sit down in her recliner. I get lap time. That's when we really have quality time, her and I.

She watches TV, I get everything scratched and I get another nap. Momma says this time is best. Sometimes, even she falls asleep.

So, that's my day. What's yours like?

Pilchard

Pilchard and the Three Boxes

On Wednesday, mom got some boxes. My sister and I heard someone on the front porch, which makes us nervous. We don't like people we don't know coming into our house, even if they are coming to feed us. So, we were kind of scared. When mom came home, we were still hiding in our spots. She was a bit worried about us, but when we saw it was her, we were happy and came to say, "Hi mom!"

She brought the boxes inside and set them in the middle of the living room floor. Then she had to find a scissors to get them open. She put the scissors somewhere other than their usual place so she sort of stomped around, trying to find them. We didn't like that. We don't like it when mom is frustrated.

She found them and then sat down in her recliner and told us to do a "cat scan" of the boxes. Well, Mija and I know what THAT means. Sure enough, she had her camera out to take photos. We showed her. We didn't go sniff. She sighed and said, "Okay, fine. I'll just open them." Mom wasn't expecting anything so she was really surprised by the stuff that was inside. We heard her laugh and giggle, which is a good thing.

But the BEST part was when she opened the boxes and left them out. I had to try them, of course.

This one was a bit too small. I could sit, but I couldn't lie down.

This one is too big. There's too much room. If it was summer and I wanted to stretch out, maybe, but it's winter and I want to be cozy.

This one turned out to be just right. It now sits on the floor in the living room. The rest went into our recycling can.

Whoever sent mom nice stuff knows cats and we are certainly appreciative of boxes. They are better than cat toys.

Pilchard

I Guess I'm Impressed

Mom finished a craft project last week.

I sort of did pose for this, I have to admit.

But she brings out the camera with that flashy thing and I just don't want to sit still. This project came out okay, even if my sister sniffed it and wasn't amused.

If you want to see how mom did this, head over to her blog and read about it. Me? I'm just going to lounge around.

Maybe I should charge a modeling fee.

Love Pilchard.

Queen of All I Survey

When Mom took her vacation last month, she went to see Faux. Faux lived in our house for a year before moving with mom's daughter. She calls him her "grand kitty". Faux moved to Seattle for a time and then moved all the way across the country to Virginia, with a stop in Connecticut. When he and mom's daughter came through Chicagoland, they stopped at the house. We figured out a way to get along.

Faux has been an only cat for awhile. Recently, he got a brother. Tobey's family got one of those things called "dawgs" and it was making Tobey's life miserable. So mom's daughter took Tobey in and he and Faux get along very well. Tobey's family gave mom's daughter a cat tree. Faux and Tobey are too big for it so mom brought it home for us. They had to take it apart to fit in the trunk of the car.

It sat on our floor for over a week before mom decided to put it together. It has new and different smells on it. Mija and I had to thoroughly check it out.

Here it is, all assembled. It's kinda tall.

Mom put it on the floor. We weren't sure what to make of it. She had to pick me up and put me on it.

I can smell Faux and Tobey on this.

Hmmmm. I think this has potential. I haven't been up on the top step, yet. I'm just getting used to sitting here or on the bottom step. It's comfy, though.

It does take up room in the living room. Mom says she needs to move things around so she can put this somewhere where we can look out the windows while we lie on it. Oooooh! Squirrel TV AND a place to sleep. I think a girl could get used to this. Plus, mom gave me treats while I was lying here.

I let my sister sit on it, but she's not as interesting in it as I am.

Mom says we can use the columns to scratch, but I think the back of the recliner is the best place even if mom sighs.

See you next week.

Pilchard