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

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

On Top of Mount Laundry...

...all covered with smells.

My mom will just dump it, and I make a well.

I notice her clean clothes...

...don't have any hair.

So I curl up nicely...

...and fall asleep here.

Mom laughs that "permanent press" in our house doesn't require an iron. I'm not sure if I should be offended by that comment, or what.

Love,

Pilchard

I'm Right Here

We cats like our routine. Mom gets up, has breakfast, goes to work, comes home, does chores, lets me sit in her lap, plays on the computer, goes to bed. We do that for 5 days and then she's home all day for 2 days. We're used to that. It's comforting.

This winter has been weird. With all the large amounts of white stuff outside, mom comes home, sometimes when we're not expecting her. Maybe she comes in the front door, but usually, she comes in the back door. It scares us. It doesn't matter if she calls out, "Hi girls! I'm home early", it's still scary to hear footsteps, a key in the door and a voice when we're not expecting it.

Mija hides. I usually just stay where I'm at. Thing is, mom often doesn't know where that is. A girl needs to be comfortable and mom brought up a laundry basket of clothes on Sunday night and didn't put them away. I think that means I can claim them, don't you?

So mom was sent home early on Monday because we were getting more snow. She called my name, but I have this spot all nice and warm. It's kind of funny to hear mom's voice get a bit more anxious when I don't come out to greet her. Honestly, humans, I'm comfortable.

Her red sweater is really cozy and the basket was near the floor vent so, occasionally, there was a warm breeze. I didn't want to move.

Yeah, she found me. I said, "Hello" when she did. I'm not sure why she wasn't all that amused.

See you next week.

Pilchard