Sophie, like many cats, has very expressive eyes. I can tell when she's feeling happy, sleepy, bored, or affectionate just by looking at her. I can also tell when she's disappointed.

Sophie, I'm sorry. I can't play now because I have to...(get dressed/go to work/paint my toenails).

She gives me those Puss in Boots eyes, and I feel terrible (but continue to get dressed/go to work/paint my toenails anyway). When I let her down, Sophie turns to a more reliable companion, one who always drops everything just to play with her:

The blanket's back.



I love fall colors, but I don't keep this blanket out year-round. When I look outside and see the leaves so vibrantly green with life, I don't want to be reminded that their vigor will be short-lived. I hide the blanket as soon as the ground thaws. Sophie understands how it is, but that doesn't make it any easier—you see, she loves that blanket.


If I didn't know better, I would say that Sophie has become clingy, always sitting with me on the couch…but I know better. I know that I've got nothing to do with it. I know that I've just gotten in the middle of an attraction bigger and stronger than anything I could have imagined when I bought that plush throw.

Meanwhile, I harbor jealousy toward a blanket: she's loves you more than me…wwaaaaanh!

Yes, I know I missed it again…calculated risk. After logging into work for a few hours on Sunday, I wanted nothing more to do with computers. I knew I missed it when I went to bed. Sophie wrapped herself around my ankles to get my attention, to point out that I was forgetting something. If cats had thought bubbles, I'm sure hers would have said, "You stupid human! I even posed for pictures today! I demand you write cute things about me RIGHT NOW OR ELSE."

It's probably good that she hasn't figured out how to make typing work with those fluffy paws. You would be seeing a lot of "Sophie is so awesome" posts if she had—if vanity had a face…

Here's something funny that just came to me: I am often irritated by pretty humans that know they are pretty (and make sure that you do too). In cats, I find it highly amusing. Thank you, Sophie, for associating with a couple of lowly humans a few times a week. It makes us feel important.

Anyway, a quick recap of the cat's week to get you through until next Sunday: she ate a bunch of times, buried her poop in a box in the basement, and got yelled at for chewing on my work laptop. All in all, a pretty eventful and tiring week.

If only she had learned to read a clock instead of listening to her tummy, Sophie would not have been so perplexed over the time change this morning. She could not fathom why her humans were still in bed when they should have been up and feeding her. She decided to sprawl on the food giver's head until she got the hint, but she was more dismissive than Sophie bargained.

When the slackers finally stumbled downstairs, they acted as though nothing was wrong. Sophie jumped to the perch where she receives her morning treats and bayed. The food giver finally snapped to, but Sophie did not want the tardiness to go unpunished. She gave the food giver a firm but harmless nip on the finger: the food giver needed to remember her place.

When the alarm clock in Sophie's belly sounded later that afternoon, she was disappointed to see that the food giver had not, in fact, learned her lesson. She kept telling Sophie some gibberish about a big hand and a little hand. Sophie decided that she must be a complete idiot—she had paws not hands, and they were all pretty much the same size.

Moron.

When the food giver finally DID HER JOB, Sophie was so worn out from giving her hell that she collapsed on the couch. Keeping those humans in line is a draining, thankless job.