A Cat's Guide to Christmas

Some of you may have noticed lately that your home has become the scene of some strange activities involving trees, packages, and lights. This set of human behaviors constitutes one of The Holidays, and this particular Holiday, celebrated by some but not all humans, is called Christmas. 

During Christmas it can almost seem as though humans are trying to think up tempting things to tell us not to do. However, it turns out that that is not in fact the purpose of Christmas--apparently, it's all about peace and joy! So in the true spirit of the season, here is a cat's survival guide to Christmas.

Find the cat!

The Tree. A real or artificial tree may suddenly appear inside your house and get stood on end in some uncluttered spot. This is an alarming procedure, but don't worry, it will soon be over. Once the tree is standing up safely, you may be able to get away with climbing it. This is risky, however, as the whole thing might just tip over. Hiding under the tree is fine, though (see photo at right). The tree may also smell delicious, and you may be tempted to eat some of the needles. Don't bother; they won't stay down long.  

The Ornaments. If your humans set up a tree, they are bound to decorate it with lovely, shiny objects called ornaments. If they are smart, they will put them all high enough to be out of your reach. You are bound to want to play with them, but your humans will be hurt if you knock them off and break them. So it's better for everyone if they just put them higher to start with.

The Lights. Your humans may put up strings of small colored lights, either on the tree or elsewhere around the house. They are pretty and sparkly, and you will want to play with them. But do not attempt to chew the cord. Humans will get very angry if you do so and may resort to coating the cords with an offensive tasting substance that will take you hours to get out of your mouth if you ever taste it.

The Gifts. As the Christmas season progresses, packages will begin arriving at the house. They will get wrapped in colorful paper and placed around the base of the tree. The paper is lovely, and it makes a beautiful rustling sound, but--strangely--the humans do not want your help applying the paper. If you wait until Christmas Morning, which is when they unwrap the paper from the packages, they will give you the paper to play with at that time--if they have a shred of common decency. Also, if any of the packages under the tree smell strongly of catnip or cat treats, feel free to rip the paper off them yourself on Christmas Morning. Those are gifts for you--see, I told you it was about peace and joy!

The Nativity Scene. Somewhere in the house--perhaps on the mantelpiece--you may find a group of small model humans and animals forming a rustic scene. There will be at least two adult humans and one baby. The animals will not include cats, but if you position yourself next to the other animals in the scene you can rectify that omission, although not at a consistent scale. The little figures may be quite cute, so you may be tempted to knock them off the mantel and play with them. Try not to, but whatever you do, DO NOT EAT THE BABY. For some inscrutable reason, humans find that highly offensive.

As you can see, Christmas demands near-nonstop restraint from us cats. Good luck coping, and here's wishing you all some cat treats on the big day!

Coping with Children

Humans have a tradition that they call The Holidays. One of the things this Holidays sometimes includes is house guests. Guests are stressful at the best of times, but I have recently discovered that they can be much worse that I'd thought.

In an earlier post I mentioned that human kittens are called babies.  It turns out that it's more complicated than that. Only the smallest kittens are called babies. The larger ones are called children. It is the smaller children, known as toddlers or preschoolers (I haven't quite figured out the difference--if any--between these two terms) that are the most fearsome. They are small (just above eye level), highly mobile, unresponsive to requests to please back off, and prone to emitting sudden ear-splitting shrieks. This is unnerving.

If you are faced with a disaster of this sort, try not to panic. Instead, try these pointers gleaned from my recent experience:

1. Head for the hills. One of the most disconcerting things about small children is that they are close to the floor, thereby ruining some of your favorite hiding places, like under the bed. Instead of going under things, think up. Toddlers are not good at climbing; you are.

2. Hole up. How often do you really need to leave the bedroom? You may be in the habit of hanging out on the sofa in the afternoon or sunning yourself in the breakfast nook in the morning, but you can put these activities on hold for a few days. Hang tight, and it will all be over soon.

3. Consolidate. Depending on your house layout, you may be able to convince your humans to temporarily move your food and/or litter to a place that's nearer your hole-up site. I recognize that this disruption of your routine may be stressful for you, but it may be your best option if it allows you to slip under the radar and eat or use your litter in peace. Refusing to eat or drink or trying to find a substitute for your litter box are not recommended tactics.

4. Sleep it off. When the guests have gone, de-stress with some good sleep. You'll be OK once you've gotten caught up on your rest.

Carbon Footprint

Dear Thera,

Now that it's getting colder, my humans are refusing to turn up the heat. When they discuss the possibility of doing so amongst themselves, they start looking anxious and mention "Carbon footprint." I have looked diligently out the window for traces of this Carbon or its footprints, and I have not seen any. Nor do I understand why a warmer house would attract this fearsome Carbon. They also seem to think Carbon is in the air. The only creatures I can think of that are in the air but also leave footprints are birds. Surely my humans are not afraid of a bird? Don't they know that cats are very good at hunting birds? My housemate and I could surely protect them from a Carbon bird!

I'm starting to think that the Carbon is a myth. Humans are very attached to their myths, after all. What do you think?

Carbon Skeptic

Dear Skeptic,

I understand your doubts. As I understand it, the Carbon--or at least its footprint--is a metaphor. That's not quite the same thing as a myth--a metaphor is real, but humans talk about it in ways that aren't quite real. So we can't actually see this footprint. It is some sort of abstract force that is causing Global Warming, and that's what a lot of humans are very anxious about. Turning up the thermostat (and many other actions) strengthens this force.

I bet you're wondering what's wrong with a little bit of warming, right? We cats love to be warm. But there's something I've noticed about warm weather. When it's colder, my housemates and I resolve our differences and learn to occupy the same bed or chair. When it's warmer, we have less motivation to get along and arguments break out pretty easily. I think that's what humans are worried about: that warmer weather will lead to more conflict. Also, I'm not sure humans tolerate the heat as well as we do. And besides, there can be too much of a good thing.

So my advice is that you humor your humans' stingy behavior with the thermostat. You and your housemate should be able to keep each other--and them--warm for the winter.

Happy snuggling,
Thera

Daylight Savings Time

Fall is here. As I watch out my window, the leaves are falling off the trees. Sometimes they get stuck on a window screen or on a spider web that's on the outside of the window. That's good for hours of entertainment. 

What's less entertaining--and much more perplexing--is a curious seasonal habit that humans have. Twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall, they shift all their routine activities by one hour. It happened just the other day. Suddenly everything was one hour late, including our meals. 

This shift is called Daylight Savings Time. Actually, it's the shift to one hour earlier, which happens in the spring, that gets us onto Daylight Savings Time, while the shift to one hour later, which happens in the fall, gets us to Standard Time. But I only know this detail because my human has pedantic tendencies. Most of us just call the whole rigmarole Daylight Savings Time.



Daylight Savings Time is upsetting and disruptive to us cats, but observably so to humans as well. They get confused as to what they should be doing when and may have trouble getting to sleep on time or getting up on time. Apparently, the time shift can even cause accidents among humans. I'm not actually sure what kind of accidents they mean, but tripping over a cat while getting out of bed or cutting oneself while opening the cat-food can because of exceptional grogginess seem to be likely candidates.

Why, then, do they perform this strange and upsetting ritual? The term "Daylight Savings" suggests that they are trying somehow to conserve sunlight. And indeed, the part of the year during which they are on Daylight Savings Time is the sunnier part of the year. So Daylight Savings seems to work to increase sunlight. But frankly, I'm pretty sure that the days lengthen--and then shorten--of their own accord. I don't think the humans have anything to do with it. 

Humans get funny ideas, though. In the past, they used to believe that their ritual actions influenced the natural world, and they performed all sorts of rites to ensure the continued progression of the seasons. They are mostly over this narcissistic way of thinking--but perhaps not entirely. Daylight Savings Time appears to be a holdover from just such a primitive belief system. They appear to believe that, by undergoing this shift in time twice a year, they are ensuring the proper lengthening and shortening of the days. Probably most of them don't actually believe it literally anymore, but with humans, tradition dies hard.

Are Vacuum Cleaners Really Necessary?

If you're anything like me, vacuum cleaners are some of your least favorite things. Humans just don't seem to care that we find these abominations to be truly terrifying. They don't notice the loss of dignity that we suffer when our self-preservation instinct sends us diving under the nearest chair when the vacuum cleaner enters the room. While there are many behaviors that you can train your human out of, the occasional use of a vacuum cleaner is unlikely to be one of them (although anecdotal evidence suggests that you may be able to reduce vacuum cleaner use if you get rid of any dogs in your house).

The really puzzling thing is that I don't think they enjoy vacuuming either. So why do they do it so compulsively? I have come to suspect that it may be a sort of misplaced grooming instinct. They use the vacuum cleaner to brush and clean their surroundings much as we use our tongues to brush and clean our fur. Lawn mowers, which are also terrifying but are usually deployed at a safer distance, seem to operate on the same principle. Somehow humans have confused their territories (that is, their homes and yards) with their bodies, with the result that they now feel compelled to groom their homes as well as their bodies. 

This seems crazy, but I can't think of a better explanation. If anyone out there has a better idea, let me know. There is an upside to vacuum cleaner use, though: there's less dust around to get caught in your whiskers.

Cats in the News

Breaking news: Humans have figured out that we bond to them. "Cats display distinct attachment styles toward human caregivers," their paper says. In other words, yes, we love the humans we live with. Well, duh! Do they actually need us to spell it out for them? How insecure is that?!

I'll admit that at first I was a bit insulted. I mean, if my humans can't figure out that I love them and am attached to them, why am I bothering to show it? Or even, why am I letting myself get attached in the first place?

Upon mature reflection, though, I believe that this is only news to humans who don't live with cats. Since not all humans share their homes with cats, some humans just don't realize what they are missing out on. I think the other humans--the ones who do live with cats--wanted to let them in on the secret. 

Which is, of course, that cats are cool.

Why Do Humans Like To Eat Outside?

The weather has been nice lately, and my humans have taken to eating dinner on the deck. My housemates approve of this behavior. They like to go out there along with the humans and nibble on the herbs, get a closer view of the birds (see photo at right), and sharpen their claws on the railing posts. Personally, I think it's a bit dangerous: some of those birds are hawks and owls (see second photo, below right), and while I'd back myself against any bird in a fair fight, it's not fair if they swoop in and carry you off while you're not looking.

 But given that my humans don't hunt birds or scratch the railing posts, why do they like to take their food outside to eat? It has been suggested to me that it might be because they want to feed the mosquitoes, but I'm pretty sure that was a joke.

After much observation and reflection, I have begun to think that it is because as omnivores (not obligate carnivores like us) they eat a lot of vegetation and so the smell of plants stimulates their appetites and improves their digestion. For us, it helps our appetite and digestion to hunt and chase things before dinner, even if the food itself comes from a can; so it seems plausible that for humans it might help to smell living plants as they sit down to eat.

If so, this suggests that we should be supportive of any interest they show in growing plants indoors and refrain from completely chewing them up. 

I'll have to think about that one some more.

Sonnet 1

Our human sleeps, curled up on her left side;

We sit, Lagrange points round our central star,

And wait, no worshipers more true nor tried

Than we, with focus fixed and rapt regard.

Crepuscular, the term that suits us best,

Implies we wake betimes, before the sun,

While human beings still prefer to rest

Till dawn—or later, if it’s her, for one.

In patience, then, our souls we must possess,

And stifle more than saddest, soft meow

Or twitch of tail that tells of bottled stress—

The wait can’t really last much longer now.

She stirs! She wakes! All eyes are on the bed:

She’ll get up soon, and then we will be fed.

Yoga

It has come to my attention that many humans believe that yoga was invented by humans in ancient India. What a ridiculous idea! While it is certainly true that the ancient Indians were faster than other humans at adopting this beneficial practice, it is cats who invented yoga. No two ways about it.

From the Mailbag: Human Behavior

[Response to "Where Do Humans Keep Their Feelings?"]

Hi Thera,
What good suggestions! How funny that human expressions are so subtle and  
complicated. I found that an indirect way to tell human emotions is from  
their behaviors. The same way that cats will brush against people when  
happy, or pee in specific places when attention is absolutely necessary,  
human behaviors may indicate their mood and needs as well. For example,  
when they give out lots of treats, they are probably feeling contented with  
their world. And surprisingly, when they curl up in a sunny bed during the  
day, they're sometimes not at the height of contentment as cats would be,  
but actually feeling sad. This is a great opportunity for cats to take care  
of their humans by providing warmth and reassuring purrs.
Ebony

Dear Ebony, 

Good to hear from you!  You're dead right that humans exhibit clues to their emotions in their behavior. In fact, I often find it helpful to compare a facial expression with the simultaneous behavior so as to get a clearer understanding of either the expression or the behavior. A third clue comes from the tone of the voice.

You bring up a good point about human napping behavior. They do far too little of it, except when they are kittens. (Human kittens are known as babies.) Sleeping in the middle of a sunny day is often a sign of emotional or physical distress. As you suggest, we should not let the fact that they are taking up space on our beds during the daytime prevent us from joining them. A cat's presence will do no harm at such a time and may do a whole lot of good. If they have a slight fever, so much the better--you will get an especially warm nap.

Thanks for writing,
Thera

Where Do Humans Keep Their Feelings?

Everyone knows where cats feel their emotions: in their tails. When we are feeling friendly, our tails arch over our back in a curve the humans like to call a question mark. When we are excited and happy, the hairs on our tail fluff out in a bottle-brush pattern. In the thrilling moments leading up to a pounce, our tails lash back and forth, seemingly of their own accord.

The simple truth of cat tails raises a perplexing question: where do humans feel their emotions? Humans do not have tails, even under their clothes. Trust me on this one; I’ve checked. But then how can they properly feel emotions? One possibility is that, like the Manx cats among us, they have vestigial tails with bundles of nerve endings that process emotions even if they can’t express them visually the same way most cats can.

I don’t think that’s the answer, though. Through listening and observation, I have come to the conclusion that humans feel their emotions in their heart. Or at least somewhere under their sternum. That is where it seems to hurt when they are lonely or get bad news.

However, this answer raises yet another question: how do humans show their emotions? Hearts are hidden under bone, so how do humans communicate to others how they feel? They do have very expressive vocal communication, but surely they have some way of physically showing their feelings. In our case, not only do our tails process and communicate our feelings, but our ears convey them to those looking at us from the front. The emotions travel from the tip of the tail up the spine and out the ears. We’ve all felt it. So how does it work for humans? You’ve probably already wasted time trying to read your human’s ears and found that they always lie lifelessly against their skulls. Those inexpressive ears are, in fact, one reason for the myth that all humans are psychopaths.

To get beyond speciesist mythology, try looking more closely at your human’s face. Look at the mouth and the eyebrows. Once you start looking there you will find that your human is in fact quite expressive. If the corners of the mouth go up, that is a happy expression. If the eyes narrow a bit, so much the better. The eyebrows pulling together in front is an unhappy expression. Narrowing of the eyes is not a good sign in this case. Spend some time observing your particular human’s face, and you will start to be able to draw your own conclusions about your human’s emotional life.

Household Chores

If your humans are anything like mine, they’re always a bit too busy and stressed. One of the things that seems to stress them out the most is all the various chores that need to be done around the house. Frankly, my humans are not that great at getting around to them, and this causes them even more stress.

As a considerate feline housemate, there are ways you can help out—and have fun doing it. I list a few below, but if you have further ideas, send them along.

Pest control. If you live in an older house, this one may be obvious to you. You may already be doing your part by deterring intruders such as mice and voles. But have you thought about expanding your mandate to insects? Even the best-kept modern house might occasionally have a moth or beetle. Tracking and eliminating these household threats can provide you with hours of enjoyment while earning you the gratitude of your humans. Just be careful about what you knock into when you leap for one.

Dish washing. Are the dirty dishes piling up on the kitchen counter? Maybe some of what’s on them would fit nicely in your stomach. Giving the dishes a good licking will leave them much cleaner. Just be sure to avoid garlic.

Bed making. Have the sheets just gone through the dryer? Putting the bed back together is a lot of work. But with help from you, it can be fun. At least, I think that’s what my human means when she says, “Can someone distract Thera for me, please? I have to make the bed now.”

Human senses

If you’ve ever had your tail stepped on by a human, who claimed she just hadn’t seen it, or endured hours of painful high-pitched screeches that your human claimed was “music,” you may have been tempted to conclude, as some cats I know have, that all humans are psychopaths who really don’t care how you feel or what they do to you.

The problem with this theory is that it doesn’t square with so many other things they do, like feeding you, scratching you behind the ears, and bringing home catnip.

After considerable research and first-hand observation, I have concluded that the main problem with most humans is simply that their senses differ so markedly from ours. They just don’t experience the world the way we do, and so they do a lot of things that we easily interpret as callous or hostile.

In the interests of better interspecies understanding, I offer the following summary of human senses.

Eyesight. Humans have terrible eyesight. The minute it gets just a little bit dark, their sight starts to fail. I’ve even heard them say that in the dark, all cats are gray. Can you believe it? That’s how bad their eyes are! Granted, in good light they can see things pretty well—even at some considerable distance—but keep out from under their feet in the dark! Their pupils are not as flexible as ours, and they don’t have a tapetum lucidum to make the most of a small amount of light. On the other hand, their color perception is actually pretty good—so long as it is bright day. This might help explain the fixation some of them have on what they call “art.”

Hearing. Humans have a truly pathetic sense of hearing. It cuts out at quite a low frequency, and they are very poor at locating something by sound. If you’ve ever been stuck somewhere and it took them forever to figure out where your sad little mews were coming from, this is why. And if they have ever subjected you to the grating squeal of a piccolo, oboe or violin, they probably didn’t mean to hurt you. They just can’t hear it as well as you can. If you think this could happen to you, you might want to nudge their browser or catalog page to display cellos and bassoons instead.

Smell. Once again, humans are utterly dismal at this. They think pretty well of their abilities when they start complaining that their teenager hasn’t scooped the litter box yet, but honestly, that’s about all they can smell. This explains some otherwise pretty offensive behavior, such as buying us perfumed litter, or wearing strong perfumes themselves. They honestly can’t tell what that stuff smells like! It’s also another reason why they don’t know where you are if it’s dark. They can’t smell you! And they certainly can’t tell the difference between you and your housemate by smell, although we can easily identify each one of the resident humans by smell.

Touch. Here’s one where humans do have some sensitivity. Although they are notoriously lacking in the whiskers department (no, beards on human males are not the same thing), their skin is actually quite sensitive. A considerate cat will therefore always keep her claws in when touching human skin.

Taste. Taste is where humans rule. They can taste a wide range of flavors, which explains their interest in such a wide variety of foods. There’s a flavor that they call “sweet,” which acts on them almost like catnip does on us. They will do a lot to get more of that taste. Sweet interacts with various aromatic compounds to make fruits, and even some vegetables, very attractive to them. If you’ve ever enjoyed the smell of a ripe strawberry, it’s like that for them too, but much more so because of this factor called “sweet.” For all that, they also appreciate a good portion of meat, as we do. In general, it pays to be somewhat tolerant of your human's interest in taste, given that they are so lacking in other senses.

Taking your human for what he is—a human, having only a human's outfit of senses, and not a cat—will make cohabitation easier and help to dispel the myth of ubiquitous psychopathy in humans. You may even begin to notice the times when they make a special effort to be considerate of you.

Look at all those sensory organs!

Breaking the lampshade

Dear Thera,

I recently moved in with a new human family. They've been good to me, and the house is comfortable. Last week the humans bought a standing lamp with a hemispherical lamp shade at the top. They installed it just behind one of the arm chairs in the living room. It turned out that by standing on the back of the chair I could reach up and touch the shade, which was attractively bright and sparkly.

You probably know where this is going, but this morning I leaned on the shade a bit too much when I reached for it. It went over with a great crash and a spray of broken glass. On top of that, the nearest human started yelling at me. I've never been so scared in my life! I can see that I've ruined the lamp. Have I also ruined my chance at a happy home with friendly humans?

--Shattered 

Dear Shattered, 

I think you'll probably be OK. Humans can be temperamental sometimes, especially when their money, their furniture, or their special shiny objects are involved. In this case, it sounds like it was all three. However, they usually get over it eventually. Try to be a bit more careful about standing objects than can be knocked over and any items made of glass. Avoid all such objects for a good week, at least. Meanwhile, meet any friendly overtures with positive reinforcement. A few cheek rubs go a long way toward mending fences.

Oh, and you can come out from under the bed now.

Best of luck,

--Thera

Windows

I've been busy lately working on my windows operating system. I'm pretty good now at closing them. Opening is much harder. I've also been working at nearly closing them. If I do that, I can insert a paw underneath and reopen them anytime I want to. I think this is called minimizing the window. I certainly recommend minimizing over closing in most circumstances.

From the mailbag: Greek

Το όνομά σου είναι Θήρα, έτσι ίσως διαβάζεις ελληνικά; Είμαι άνθρωπος που διαβάζει το συναρπαστικό σας σχόλιο. Έχω παίξει online ένα παιχνίδι με άλλους ανθρώπους μέσω της ελληνικής. Ίσως να είναι πιο πολύτιμη αφού το παιχνίδι είναι στα ελληνικά; Τι νομίζετε???


Dear Friend,

Welcome to you, human reader! It's good to be reaching an multi-species audience. You are right that my name is Greek; I am named after a Greek island that is also a volcano. I observe that humans tend to gain perspective and empathy through learning new languages, so I am glad to hear you are studying Greek. Have you studied Cat? Do you know how to interpret, for example, bottle-brush tail and question-mark tail? Can you recognize a flying-prey chatter? If not, there is a new world awaiting you!

--Thera

From the mailbag: Training humans

Hi Thera! My sister and I (posting from our human's account) came across your blog and we're finding it very enjoyable and informative so far. We were wondering if at some point you could offer advice to those of us who are trying to train our humans out of some small but persistent behavioral issues. Nothing really serious, just little things like taking plastic bags away when we were obviously busy chewing them, getting in our way when we're doing quality control on the human food, etc. Do you find that humans respond better to positive reinforcement or negative reinforcement? I'm sure we aren't the only ones who would appreciate your thoughts on the subject!

-Luna and Kricket

P.S. If you get a chance, our human wanted you to let your human know that she really enjoys this blog. We don't really understand why she's under the impression that your human has anything to do with it, but humans as a species have a habit of taking credit for more than they should so sometimes it's best just to humor them.



Dear Luna and Kricket,

Great to hear from you! You are absolutely right that humans take credit for a lot. Some cats I know even say that all humans are incurable narcissists. I think that's going a bit far. My own human lets me use her computer, so there's obviously hope in some cases. Before we judge humans too harshly, it's important to keep in mind that they have much less finely developed senses than we do. They just can't see, hear, or smell others as well as we can. So they are much less aware of others and their concerns than we tend to expect. This is especially true for us cats, who are so much smaller than they are. Sometimes they even step on us by mistake!

As for training humans, I am a great believer in positive reinforcement. Negative reinforcement should be saved for desperate situations like trips to the vet. Give your human lots of cause to think that you are cute and lovable. Then start some exposure therapy. Try chewing the plastic bag or sniffing the food just very briefly. Then go back to being cute and cuddly. The next day, chew the plastic bag just a little bit more (see photo below). Or sniff the food just a little more closely. Work up to nibbling at the food over the course of a week or more. If you take it slowly and give lots of positive reinforcement along the way, you may be able to train them out of their paranoid reactions.

Good luck!
Thera

Your human's screen addiction

Feline and human, we all spend a lot more time indoors these days than in previous generations. This keeps us safe, so on the whole it’s a good thing. We’re safer from foxes, hawks, coyotes and, of course, automobiles. And we’re warmer and drier in bad weather. But this step forward in safety and comfort comes with behavioral changes that have their downsides. For humans, one of the major downsides of indoor living is screen addiction.

A screen is a flat, rectangular object that may be small and portable, huge and permanently installed on a wall or in a cabinet, or anywhere in between. Viewed from an angle they may appear to be gray or black, but seen face-on they display moving patterns of lines and colors. These moving patterns are what so entrance a human.

Think of it as a laser pointer for humans. The effect is similar—it hooks them right in the brain stem and they can’t help but be drawn in. But unlike a laser pointer, a screen doesn’t spur healthy exercise. In fact, a lack of exercise is one of the major negative effects of screen addiction. Feelings of sadness and loneliness are another. What you are most likely to notice first, though, is that they are ignoring you.

So what is a cat to do? Sadly, total remission of screen addiction is rare. Your efforts should be directed toward mitigation of the condition and its side effects. Here are a few suggestions:

1. Don’t chew through the power cords. That is not only counterproductive, but also dangerous. Inserting your claws through the fabric of their clothes in an effort to distract them is also unlikely to bring about any lasting behavioral changes.
2. Encourage your humans’ personal relationships. If strange humans come over to visit, be nice. Don’t growl or hiss. If you can manage to bring yourself to it, try to look cute. This may encourage further visits and deepening friendship.
3. Encourage your human to play with you. Find a toy and invite her to play. If you can convince her to play a round of laser pointer, it will do you both a great deal of good. Postpone your next nap for this if you have to.
4. Give your human something real to look at. Strike graceful yoga poses as you bathe, or chase your tail while balancing on the back of a chair. If you can make him laugh, so much the better. 
5. Give your human pleasant sensory input. If they can’t stop sitting like a lump in front of an inanimate screen, you can mitigate some of the negative effects by curling up in their lap and purring. The vibrating warmth will do them good.

As you implement your intervention strategy, keep in mind that not all uses of screens are evidence of a debilitating addiction. Some screen use falls into the category of work. While that word sounds unpleasant, don’t be too critical. Work is what keeps the kibble coming, so be tolerant of it in moderation. Some additional screen use falls into the category of interpersonal relationships. Sometimes humans are actually performing meaningful communication rituals when they use their screens. Interpersonal communication helps keeps humans sane, so you should be supportive when they try it.

It can be hard to tell the difference between work, communication, and addiction. As a general guideline, the more they are talking, the more likely it is to be communication. And the longer they sit there silently, the more likely it is to be addiction.

Good luck as you take on this challenge! If you find additional strategies that work, please share them.

Alexa

Dear Thera,

You know how you can generally pick a name out of an otherwise incomprehensible string of human speech? Well, I’ve always been pretty sure that my humans call me Brady. Just recently, though, I’ve started to feel like they’re calling me Alexa. Not all the time, but pretty often. Are they confused? Or am I?

--Confused? (Brady??)

Dear Brady,

Next time you hear your humans utter the name Alexa, take a look around the room. Is there a little black or gray cylindrical device with a lot of tiny holes in it sitting on the desk or the coffee table? If so, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you’re just fine. You’re not crazy, and your name really is Brady. The bad news is that your humans have started to be assimilated by the hive mind. Symptoms of this potentially degenerative condition include giving names to inanimate electronic devices (hence Alexa) and an utter disregard for their personal privacy. Symptoms may progress to ceding decision-making to the inanimate electronic devices and a total inability to figure anything out for themselves. If you’re lucky, they’ll only have a mild case. Do what you can to keep them rooted in reality—it might help. Good luck!

--Thera

Ceiling Fans

Dear Thera,

I have recently moved into a new house. My humans don’t seem to notice, but hanging from the ceiling of several of the rooms are terrifying bladed things. At first I thought they were some kind of huge bird of prey, but now I see they have too many wings for that. What are they? What can I do about them?

--Terrified

Dear Terrified,

Relax! Those are ceiling fans. The first thing you need to know is that they are completely harmless. They are not birds of prey, nor are they predators of any kind. Your instinct to cower as you walk under them and sense them hovering over you will wear off.

Opinions differ as to the true purpose of ceiling fans. Some cats I know believe that they play a role in indoor climate control. I’m not so sure about this, because I know for a fact that the hot or cold air in my house comes through the vents on the floor.

I have a different theory about their function. If you take a bold, face-on look at your ceiling fan you will notice that there are four or five points radiating out from the center. In other words, they are star-shaped.

You know that expression, Reach for the stars? These are the stars. If you look closely, you’ll see a little chain dangling tantalizingly from the center of the fan. It might even swing a bit, just begging you to reach out and catch it.

Ceiling fans are there to give us something to reach for. They are meant to be a symbol of hope, not fear. Reach up. Someday you’ll catch one.

--Thera

Job Loss and Your Human

Is your human displaying troubling behavioral changes? Is she spending her days at home when she used to rush off promptly every morning? Or is she perhaps failing to get out of bed at all? Is she sitting in your favorite chair at your favorite time, watching TV? Has she been startling you by bursting into tears at odd moments? If so, your human might be suffering from a relatively common condition known as job loss.

The symptoms of job loss are varied, and different humans may display slightly different sets of symptoms. Here are some signs to watch for:

1.  Changes in circadian rhythm. Your human may get up later in the morning, stay up later at night, and/or have insomnia. In extreme cases, he might not get up at all.

2.  Changes in vocabulary. You may notice your human using more of certain words than usual. In human, these are known as “swear words.” You may also hear more of certain other words, like résumé or money.

3.  Reduction in personal grooming. This is a painful one for a cat to see. Your human may neglect showering, haircuts and/or shaving, and laundry. He may also forget to scoop your litter.

4.  Staying home. This is one of the top signs of job loss. A human suffering from this condition is likely to spend much more time at home and may even display a reluctance to leave the house.

5.  Emotional instability. A human suffering from job loss is likely to cry or to lose his temper far more easily than usual.

Many of the signs of job loss are similar to another condition, breakup of relationship. However, breakup of relationship is usually accompanied by changes in which humans you see around the house and may include somewhat less staying home than job loss. Another similar condition, retirement, involves a great deal of staying home but is a natural part of human aging to which you and your human can both become accustomed with a little time.

Job loss is a distressing experience for both you and your human. It is important to remember that no matter how much they are inconveniencing you by occupying your furniture, neglecting your litter, or sobbing loudly, it is worse for them. The good news is that the condition usually resolves itself in a matter of weeks or months. The best treatment you can provide is steadfast affection. Your purr is one of the best medicines.

Stopping by fire

Stopping by Fire on a Snowy Evening

(With apologies to Robert Frost)

Whose logs these are I do not know,

I love to watch them burning though,

And let the firelight warm my fur,

While just beyond the shadows grow.

My human friend can hear me purr,

I look up and I blink at her;

In amity we share the light

And warmth and peace the logs confer.

The snow outside falls cold and white,

A dreary, wet, and lonely sight,

But here inside, when all is said,

This faded hearthrug feels just right.

The fire is lovely, warm and red,

And I have recently been fed,

So this is where I’ll make my bed,

Yes, this is where I’ll make my bed.