Decisions Decisions

I fervently wish, sometimes, that my life could be as simple as Pilchard's. Oh to have my only life decision be which box shall I sit in today.

We got quite a few items in boxes over Christmas. She had quite the choice. Eventually, this one became her favorite.

I think it's because it is perfectly Pilchard-sized. I've since recycled most of the other boxes because I kind of need floor space...for more boxes.

Love,

Pilchard's mom

Summer Life

It's been a rough month for mom. She got sick on the 2nd and is only now getting back into life. She didn't do a whole lot around the house even though she's been on a cleaning kick since reading a book about tidying up your life. It gets kind of scary when she's determined to clean. Is she going to clean us, too?

At the end of July, she finished the last drawer in her dresser. I had to examine the space, you know.

It was perfectly Pilchard sized.

Mom left the drawer open so I could sleep there, if I wanted. Of course, if she's going to take my picture, I don't want to sleep there.

Then, she cleaned out some boxes which she gave to me to examine.

UGH! This is half a size too small. I simply can't lie down in it.

But most of this month has been giving mom cat scans.

She plops down into the recliner, puts up her feet and I join her. She says a purring cat makes being sick not quite so yucky. Just doin' ma job here.

Love,

Pilchard

On second thought, maybe this box isn't so bad. I figured it out overnight.

Mom Went Shopping

So Mom went shopping on Saturday. This means she leaves us on a day when she's usually home. It's so confusing when she does that. She came back with a bunch of bags. They make somewhat scary noises when she brings them inside.

In one of the bags, she got a pair of new shoes.

Meh, okay. Shoes are shoes. I guess the humans have to wear these. The best part of these shoes things was...they came in a box! 

It's the perfect size. See?

Mom was kind of irritated. "I have a big box for you, 2 scratching pads, a circular pad, 2 catnip infused paper bags and the only place you want to sleep is in the shoe box." Well, duh.

She took my picture with the price tag on the box.

She says $39.99 is too cheap for me. She says I'm priceless.

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

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

Har Har

I thought the postman was done dropping off boxes at our house once this thing called "Christmas" was over. But, we've received 4 boxes of stuff in the past 2 weeks. The boxes aren't big enough to sit in, however.

These boxes are from mom's friends and they always want to know if Mija and I liked them. Mom holds them up so we can sniff them.

Usually, Mija gets a sniff first.

Then I get to sniff.

Mom will tell her friends that she gives every box that comes into the house a "cat scan". Har har.

Sometimes they do smell interesting particularly if they come from another pet's forever home or they have some strange scent, like the box of bacon-scented items. I thought Mija was going to rip the box to shreds to get into it. Mom gets the strangest things some times.

So, have you ever smelled something so good you took a box apart to sniff it?

See you next week.

Pilchard.

Thankfulness

For these things, I am grateful.

Noms.

I don't like people food. Mom can have that, except, oh man, when she brings home deli sliced turkey...

My sister...

even if we do sit at opposite ends of the recliner.

Boxes.

Windows, where I can look out but not be out.

Places to scratch.

Warm places to sleep.

Best of all. I am thankful I have a home with a mom who loves me and my sister.

I wish all kittehs could sit in someone's lap and get chin scratches this Thanksgiving. Some day. Some day.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Pilchard.

That Time of Year

In our house, mom shops for stuff for this Christmas the humans celebrate, pretty much all year. But, around this time, she gets kind of nervous about having just the right gift. She has to ship stuff, she says, and she wants it to be on time. So, she makes lists and lists and spends a lot of time looking in catalogues. She says that, in spite of the name, they don't sell cats. She does a lot of shopping via her computer, that box in the office that takes up a lot of her times when she's home. When the stuff she orders gets delivered, that can be kind of scary because there will be footsteps on the front porch and the guy who wears brown usually rings the doorbell, even if mom's not home. That scares us.

But you know what is awesome about that? Boxes.

Lots and lots of boxes. They are in all shapes and sizes, but there's usually one that's just my size.

Mom keeps boxes around for us for awhile.

The one I'm in came last week. Our extra toys are in another. Mija likes the one on the left. That box is at least 3 years old, but Mija loves to lie in it so mom won't get rid of it. She'll use some of our boxes to pack stuff and ship it out. That's kind of traumatic. I mean, I just get a box the way I like it...

and she uses it to send presents to people. Or then, because I have decided I don't want to sit in a box anymore, she'll "recycle it". It is so upsetting to watch her fold it up and walk it out to the recycling can.

I claimed it. She says we get too many and there's no room to walk through the living room for all the boxes. But then something else gets delivered and I have a new box to investigate.

Honestly, can't a girl take a bath without the photos?

See you next week.

Pilchard

What's In a Name?

It's Thursday again. Two more days until full service lap time or box time, whichever I feel like commandeering.

After my post of last week, some people wanted to know about my name. My forever mom didn't name me. The lady who rescued me did. I guess there's a TV show on public television called "Bob, the Builder". (Mom doesn't watch much TV.) For awhile, he had a long-haired black cat named "Pilchard". The gal who rescued me liked to watch that show and thought I resembled Bob's cat. So, I was given that name. My forever mom kept it because it's a bit unusual and she likes unusual.

She didn't know more than that until one day, she was reading a book which she'd received from a friend in Great Britain. In it, the author talked about opening a tin of "pilchards". Huh? That's MY name. I hardly fit in a tin. Heck, sometimes the boxes mom gets are too small.

She looked up "pilchard" and discovered it's another name for "sardine". People who call sardines "pilchards" live in Great Britain or northern Europe. Bob, the Builder is a children's show which originated on the British Broadcasting Company. Leave it to the English to name a cat after a fish.

My sister's name, Mija, is Spanish for "female little friend". The lady who rescued Mija gave her that name. Mom likes it.

Sometimes, mom thinks Mija's too friendly.

Last week, mom forgot to mention she has a blog, www.debscupoftea.com. If you search for either of our names, you'll find that mom talks about us, a lot.

See you next week.

Pilchard

On The Island With Ernie

Hey, mom, don't waste your green papers on toys!

What the....??? There's nothing in these boxes!!