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