Places Everyone Part II

In my previous post, I began by introducing Pasha lying awkwardly at the bottom of our basement stairs. Like Pasha, our Lilah also likes to sleep at the bottom of the stairs, though in her case, we’re talking about our carpeted center staircase in our current home, with her head resting ever so gently on the last step. Walking down the stairs, I often have to step over Lilah, as she’s really Comfortable and doesn’t think it’s worth moving unless there is a possibility of going Outside or For a Ride. She’ll lie there and blink sleepily at me, trying to determine if circumstances require movement.

Lilah at the bottom of the stairs

And then there was Rosie, who believed that the stairs were nothing more than a series of perfectly sized Rosie Beds, each one offering a slightly different perspective on the world. She loved to sleep on the stairs, about halfway up, where, with a slight lift of her head, she could look out the windows in the living room or dining room or look in the hallway mirror to see reflected what was going on in other parts of the house.

Rosie, on her favorite stair, with The Ball, of course.

Recently, I found Tucker laying on the stairs just like Rosie used to; it was a bittersweet moment as I thought about my little girl who is no longer with us. But Tucker hasn’t slept there since; I think the stairs were Rosie’s Special Sleeping Place--and not anyone else’s.

Tucker's homage to Rosie.

That said, there are other sleeping similarities between Rosie and Tucker. Rosie loved to sleep under the kitchen table with her head resting on the cross pieces of the table legs. In her absence, nearly every evening, Tucker settles into a similar spot. Rosie, though, would push her way under the table; I always felt her fur brush against me as she lounged against the pedestal bar. Tucker, however, manages to sneak under the table and lay right by my feet without signaling his presence. Often the first inkling I have that he is there is when I get up from the table and push my chair in and can’t figure out why it won’t move--until a small sigh of protest alerts me to Tucker’s presence and I apologize profusely for smushing the chair into his little furry body. And just the other day, Tucker sneakily squirmed his way under my desk and fell asleep in the kneehole--and I still have no idea how he managed to do it without me noticing.

I think part of the attractiveness of Under the Table is the pedestal bar that the dogs can lie Against. Come to think of it, I think Against is one of the most common sleeping positions for all of my dogs. Both Jasper and Tucker love to sleep Against the family room couch. Lilah likes to sleep Against the family room chair. In the living room, I’ve seen all three dogs line up, sleeping Against the sofa and love seat there. My dogs have slept Against walls, Against the kitchen island, Against our bed, Against their beds (not in the bed, but Against), Against the closet door (Jasper), Against me, and Against each other.

Jasper, Against the counter

Rosie, Against the chaise.

Jasper, Against my leg.

Lilah, Against the chair.

Tucker and Jasper Against the island, all in a row.

Lilah and Jasper, Against each other.

Of course one of the most special of all Special Sleeping Places is The Couch. Prior to Jasper and Lilah’s arrival, I didn’t allow dogs on the furniture in this house. And by “didn’t allow,” I mean it was just not supposed to happen when I could find out about it. Rosie knew the rules but would break them pretty consistently, sleeping comfortably on the living room couch when she thought I wasn’t around. I would come down the stairs, startling her awake and she’d leap off the couch, stagger around the corner with the dog version of bed head, her fur all mushed on one side of her face. Her expression always spoke volumes, “Couch? What couch? Someone was sleeping on it? Who could that have been? Well, I hope you find him. I’ll just lay down right here--against the couch--because that’s what Good Dogs do and that’s me: a Good Dog. Just lying here next to the couch.”

In our previous house, the dogs were allowed to go up on the couches and chairs. Pasha only slept on the futon couch in the family room. Kelsey, though, thought one of the best Sleeping Places was on the arm of the couch; it was quite wide since the arms were giant pillows. Unfortunately I don't have a picture of this, but a good visual image would be the stone lions that stand guard by the stairs of the New York Public Library.

Now we do allow dogs on the family room couch. Lilah sometimes goes on it , though her favorite spot is the window bench, where she’ll often sleep amidst the other cats (we’ve always felt Lilah was part cat.)

Lilah on the window bench, hanging out like the cat she is.

The other cats on the window bench.

Tucker sleeps on the couch every once in a while. But Jasper, the Comfort Hound, well, he owns the couch. It doesn’t matter how many people are on the couch, Jasper will find the tiniest of openings and just kind of squeeze and pour his long lanky body into it. Somehow--and we’re never quite sure how he does it--Jasper managers to start small on the couch, but expand over time, until there’s barely enough room for him and one single human. And of course, Jasper needs a pillow for his head, though a human lap may be substituted in a pinch.

The couch is for dogs, right? Lilah, Tucker and Jasper get comfortable.

Dogs and a cat (Dawn) sleep on and around me, on the couch.

Speaking of laps, it almost goes without saying, but for Dawn and Athena, a lap is really the Most Special Sleeping Place. From what I understand from the two of them, a Lap is an Inalienable Right for Cats. Both of them will, when the mood strikes, demand access to a Lap, with all sorts of plaintive mews and sad cat sounds. If a Lap is not forthcoming, the demands may get louder, or the cat at hand may stomp off into another room looking for a more responsible and responsive lap. (I swear, if, before I had cats as pets, someone told me that cats can stomp, I would have laughed. Really.) The best Lap, of course, is the one the belongs to a person who is busy, preferably working on something really important, more than likely with a keyboard in front of her.

Sometimes, if a Lap isn’t available, and it’s cold in the house, a Very Good Special Sleeping Place is what we sometimes refer to as The Dog Warmer. Though it is nothing more than a fluffy dog bed folded in half (for added height and comfort), it happens to be situated directly in front of a heating vent. In this case, the real estate adage about the importance of location truly applies. Both dogs and cats take advantage of the warm air that flows from the vent. Of course this only works for about half the year; in the summer, when the cool breeze of air conditioning blows over the bed, it loses some of it's attractiveness.

Dawn (and Athena in the background) on the Dog Warmer.

No surprise to folks who share their lives with cats, Dawn and Athena are often in search of Warmth. A patch of sunlight makes any spot in the house an instant cat bed. And there's something about seeing a cat soaking up the rays to make nearly any human feel warm just to watch. It's as if the cats are radiating heat thoughts.

Athena, as Meatloaf, finding her place in the sun.

Dawn, making sure the sun reaches kitty belly.

Lest any reader of this blog wonder, let me be perfectly clear that all animals who reside in my home are provided a wide variety of designated pet beds and sleeping spots. And sometimes--sometimes--they are actually used by the designated animals: dogs in dog beds, cats in cat beds. Sometimes there’s a bit of a change-up, but everyone has comfortable places to lay their weary heads after a hard day’s bite.

Jasper the Moose pours out of the small dog bed.

Sweet little Lilah looks dwarfed by the big bean bag dog bed.

Athena and Dawn curl up in the dog bed. (It's okay since it's not meant for cats.)

And yes, every animal eventually winds up on the bed that Brian and I sleep in. Sometimes all at the same time. Because it is the Most Special Sleeping Space. And everyone is welcome.

Though it's hard to catch them all in on place, here are 4/5 of my menagerie, on my bed.

Places, Everyone, Part I

Years ago, when I lived in my previous house, my Keeshond mix Pasha liked to lie at the bottom of the basement stairs, sprawling in the tiny four foot by four foot space. With his legs sticking out and his head tilted back, he did a pretty fair impression of a dog with a broken neck. One look at him, lying so awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, and you’d start to think some evil being had thrown him down there. And he slept like a rock in that spot, perhaps because it was cool and confined. Sometimes he was so convincing that when he didn't respond to my calls, I’d run down the steps and wake him up, and he'd blink at me, sleep-addled, and wonder what the heck my problem was. He had been in the middle of a Really Good Nap in his Special Sleeping Place.

Pasha

Pasha was no different than every other pet I've had or currently live with. They all have their Special Sleeping Place. Or Places. 


There's no place like a cave 
Pasha in particular really liked to be enclosed. He loved to sleep underneath one of our end tables in the living room of our first house; the space under the table was dubbed Pasha's Cave. And it was the best place for a snooze, other than the bottom of the basement stairs...except when the Evil Vacuum Cleaner would come shoving it's nasty noisy nose into his private domain. He would leave very quickly when threatened with the vacuum; usually he felt so safe in his lair that I’m sure he couldn’t imagine how the Evil Vacuum Cleaner managed to bridge its defenses. 

Pasha sleeping in his Cave.

Though he wasn't crate trained at first, when we brought new puppy Rosie home and crate trained her (now in another house), Pasha decided that a crate made a perfect cave and would sometimes just go in it to sleep. We eventually had two crates, one for each dog, and every once in awhile, Pasha would cause a rip in the fabric of the universe when he chose to go in The Wrong Crate. Rosie knew which one was hers and was very particular about it; thus she went in her crate even when Pasha was already there. That lead to a somewhat overcrowded situation, which would cause Pasha to panic and get a little confused (particularly when he was older) and become unsure of exactly how to get past Rosie and out the door. We'd eventually help him out, and direct him to The RIght Crate, and all would be right with the universe.

This is NOT Pasha and Rosie in a crate. I still don't know how Jasper managed to fold himself up so that both he and Tucker could fit in.

Bizarrely, enough, Athena the cat seems to think that Tucker’s crate in our bedroom is one of the Best Special Sleeping Places. Perhaps this is because of the General Cat Belief that every thing, every where is put there specifically for their use. So even though the crate must feature a really strong Eau de Dog, it is comfortable, and there’s a pillow, and it’s kind of enclosed, but you can still see out, so it’s definitely a Cat Bed. Athena always seems surprised and incredibly offended when Tucker (or one of the other dogs) walks into the crate when she’s in there. And then there’s the tricky business of how to exit the crate with Kitty Dignity intact while trying to scramble in between the dog snout and four doggy legs. The effrontery! 

Tucker and Athena in his pen (before he graduated to a crate.) There's a lot less room in a crate.

Confined areas have been favorite spots for many of my dogs. One of Rosie's favorite spots was by my feet in the kneehole under my desk. She'd curl up under there and sleep while I worked in my office. Sometimes she'd rest her head on my footstool, and every once in awhile, I'd be typing away at my keyboard and I'd hear a soft sigh and a moan as she stretched and adjusted to get in the Best Position.  

Rosie curled up under my desk by my footrest. Notice the ubiquitous ball. Rosie was rarely far from one of her favorite toys.

When I was growing up, our dog Twinkle (I'll to write more about her in the future), used to sleep under our dining room table. The table was always covered with a floor-length tablecloth, and all you'd see of Twink would be her black snout and little black nose peeking out from under it. If you got down on floor level, you'd just barely make out her eyes. From her People Blind under the table, she could watch the world walk by, but she was so hidden, most folks wouldn't know she was there. Another favorite spot of Twinkle's was behind the living room couch where she could see out from under it; this spot had the same benefit as the dining room table; she could see and not be seen.


Hiding in caves is also a good thing if you’re a cat. The Underbed Cave is a particularly popular spot for Athena and Dawn. If either of the cats are not in the Specified Customary Cat Spots, you can be sure to find her under our bed, usually in Meatloaf position. (See "meatloaf" entry in my post on pet vocabulary.) Dawn, in particular, likes to hide Under Things. She even has a special look on her face when she hides; if she feels particularly hidden, she’ll drift off to sleep with a self-satisfied look on her face that stays there even while she drifts off to Kitty Dreamland.


On top of the world, or just about anything else 
And of course if you’re a cat, and you’re not Under something, it’s good to be On Top Of something. Dawn loves to sleep on the very top level of the humongous cat tree that dominates our family room. (In a weak moment, I let my son convince me we needed this monstrosity.) Athena likes to perch on the back of the family room couch. There’s also On Top Of a recently laundered blouse, On Top Of a grocery bag, On Top of a dresser, On Top of my stomach or chest (when I allow cats in the bedroom and I’m trying to sleep) and of course the old stand by On Top of the newspaper while I’m trying to read it. 

Dawn, high up in her crow's nest, at the top of the cat tree.

Athena On Top Of my laptop bag.

Athena On Top Of the family room Couch.

(Actually, I think it’s written in the Cat Bylaws, section III, subchapter 12, where the Comfort Factor is discussed as a direct relationship to interruptiveness or inconvenience. This applies as well, I believe, to the Cat On the Keyboard phenomenon.) And both cats are particularly pleased when they can sleep both On Top Of and Under at the same time, which they accomplish by sleeping on a chair when it is pushed under the table.

Dawn On Top of the chair and Under the dining room table.

Dawn, On Top Of the Chair, Under the kitchen  table. It's a completely different experience.

Of course, if you’re a cat and you’ve used up your Unders and On Top Ofs,  there’s always Inside. Inside a cloth bag. Inside a box. Inside a pillow case. Inside a corner. 

Dawn, comfortably "cornered" between the end table, the couch and the wall of the family room.

Basket + Towel = Cat Bed 
I actually put this concept to the test the other day. I had taken a basket out to use for hanger storage, and when I put it down on top of the clothes dryer I suddenly realized that the it was perfectly meatloaf shaped. Remembering that Athena often greets me from that very spot when I walk in the door, I thought that if I put a towel in the basket, I might just create the Perfect Cat Bed.


I knew enough about cat sensibilities not to breathe a word to either cat about this brilliant idea. I had previously purchased a cat bed--the kind that had soft tall sides for kitties to curl up in--and my effort had been soundly snubbed. Surely I wouldn’t expect the Cats to sleep in a bed made for...Cats! So, I put a towel in the basket, left in on top of the dryer unremarked upon, and sure enough, when I came home from work the next day, there was Athena, all tucked into her new basket bed.  Just a few days later, Dawn discovered it and found that it was just the right size for her, too.

A basket full of Athena.

Dawn snuggles in the Basket Bed. Just don't tell her I planned it that way.

I have to admit as a newbie cat owner, I am way too proud of myself for thinking of this concept and actually seeing it work. Somehow, I think it is all going to backfire on me the minute I post this entry; they'll find out. Cat spies are everywhere, right? And if they knew this was a bed made for cats, it Just Will Not Do.

It should be noted that when I first began this post, I actually thought I'd write about special sleeping spots and hiding spots and hang out spots. Since I hadn't really enumerated all of the Special Spots, I was quite clueless as to just how many there actually are. So, to preserve the reader's enjoyment, I narrowed the topic down to just the Sleeping Places. I'll get to Hidey Places and Observation Posts another time. However, even with the focus just on favorite sleeping spots, I discovered there are way too many for one entry. So stay tuned and come back again to read part II of Places, Everyone.

A Gardener's Tail

Scenes from my yard Scene 1: Setting: a garden. Human digs hole. Human gently plants a deep purple petunia in hole. Dog digs hole, unearths petunia. (Hint: it’s the same hole.) Dog runs around the yard with petunia. Roots exposed. Dirt flying. Ears flapping. Happy dog. Dead petunia. (Though said human will try to replant and hope for the best.)

Scene 2: Setting: a warm sunny day. (Admittedly, there have been few of those recently.) A gentle breeze is blowing. All is at peace...except for three crazed canines who have decided that running through the garden and playing dodge the dog among my hydrangeas is The. Most. Fun. Ever.

Scene 3: Setting: a lovely naturalized patio in a shade garden. A stone seating wall curves around the mossy slate. Birds flit among the bird feeders. Chipmunks scurry and skitter, cheeks swelled up with maple seeds and bird food. Squirrels hop from branch to branch. And a trio of dogs Must. Get. The. Chipmunk. Something about that high-pitched squeaky “Tscheep! Tscheep!” of those little rodents and my dogs’ brains universally short circuit. Running, leaping, digging and barking ensue. There were plants in the way? What plants? Exactly.

Lilah in the garden.

Last year, Xiomara, a good friend of mine, who is also an amazing garden designer (see XiomarasGardens.com), created the most beautiful patio and shade garden--something I’ve dreamed about since Brian and I first bought our house. On the last day of planting, around the huge tree that became a focal point of the garden, she added some gorgeous deep green and white Patriot hostas, and added a flat and a half of bright pink impatiens. It was perfect.

My beautiful shade garden and patio, with hostas and pink impatiens...before being trampled by dogs.

For a few days.

Jasper and Lilah ran through the mulch, tearing up pink and green and white shreds of petals and leaves. By the end of the summer, you could barely tell there were once pretty, delicate plants around the tree. And this year, we added Tucker to the mix; he just loves to lead the other two in a merry game of Look What I Dug Up That You Can’t Have. But You Can Chase Me to See if You Can Get It.

It’s easy enough to see the conundrum. I have wanted a perennial garden for years. I used to fight with the deer (more plentiful in my neighborhood than squirrels) until we installed deer fencing in our back yard. Now I can plant nearly anything I want. But, will it survive the potential damage that 12 marauding paws can do?

A puzzlement inside a enigma; how to keep dogs out the garden
At first I thought I’d build what I called a “visual fence.” Since we have an acre and a half of woods, and the trees are kind enough to drop dead branches of all sizes, on the ground, I went around and collected sticks, which I then stuck in the ground outlining my garden beds. I figured the dogs would see the sticks and think: barrier. It gave my garden a rustic artsy look, and I was quite pleased.

Of course, I didn’t consider the fact that I took Jasper and Lilah to agility training last year, and had taught them that an obstacle was for jumping. They sailed over my sticks. Tucker, who had not benefitted from such training, flew over my so-called visual fence as well. How nice of me to make the chase scene more interesting.

My visual fence bordering the perennial garden.

Score: Dogs 1, Susan 0.

Aha, I thought: taller sticks. If they’re tall enough, the dogs won’t want to jump them. To his credit, Jasper got the idea. The tall sticks are enough to stop him. But Tucker and Lilah? What was that old camp song? Can’t go around it, can’t go over it, gotta go through it. Doesn’t matter how close together I put my sticks in my rustic fence. They somehow manage to squeeze between the sticks, even running at chase speeds approaching Warp Factor 1.

But the garden is such a good place to hang out...

Score: Dogs 2, Susan 0

As for the plants around my big tree in the shade garden? I gave it over to the dogs. And made an attempt to create some color there by digging up my hostas and replanting them around the bird bath, which last year was the only area where the plants didn’t get trampled. I bought heavy ceramic pots and shepherds hooks and hanging baskets full of fuschias and thought I was ever so creative. (Until the hooks wouldn’t hold the baskets and I had to turn the pots over and use them as plant stands for this season.) The impatiens (why do I keep trying?) I planted directly against the base of the tree, where the dogs only go if there is an Immediate Squirrel Alert. On average, the plants get knocked off their stands only once or twice a week. For the most part, the dogs can race around and lay in the shade and very little damage is done.

A similar view of the patio as above, shown this year, and with dogs.

Jasper walks the path by my dog friendlier shade garden.

Score: (We both win this round.) Dogs 3, Susan 1.

And in my perennial garden, I gave ground (so to speak) to the dogs--in some areas. I acknowledge that they will get in, and will break the rules to go tearing along the fence, particularly if there's Evil Deer on the other side.

So, for the most part, I've moved my perennials away from the fence, creating a kind of path along the back, so when Evil Deer do show up, the dogs can run along, barking and carrying on, protecting our yard from these nefarious creatures--and trampling almost nothing.

A Barking Along the Fence Path

I also put a few obstacles in the way, making it hard to run a straight line anywhere in the garden other than along the fence. These obstacles include tomato ladders (I grow tomatoes mixed in with my perennials) and a garden obelisk frame for my clematis to climb on.

When the clematis bloom, this Running Obstacle will look even prettier.

Score: (I call this one a draw, too.) Dogs 4, Susan 2.

The canines are ahead in this game so far. But it’s far from over. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.

A rewarding exercise; treats are more fun than the garden
I am pretty sure all the dogs can tell where the grass ends and the garden beds begin. I’ve begun rewarding them for not going in the garden. I walk along the edges, and as long as they stay on the grass, they get treats. When I step inside the borders to weed or poke among my plants, and if they don’t follow, doggy snacks are freely distributed.

But I really do want to create a much more visual barrier. In the beds in front of my deck, I’m thinking of putting a very low (2 to 3 inches high) stone border, using stacked slate like my shade garden sitting wall.

Perhaps they’ll learn. Or maybe I need to file this whole concept under basic ideas that don’t mix, like oil and water, python and mongoose, matter and antimatter.

In the end, as I told my husband the other day,I love my garden, but I love my dogs more. So if they lob off a lobelia, crush a chrysanthemum or destroy a day lily, I’ll survive. My plants are replaceable.
And even though the 4-legged creatures are currently leading the game at 4 to 2, I still have lots of innings and many seasons ahead of me.

The games continue.

Jasper, looking regal, among the perennials.

Mother's Little (or Not So Little) Helpers

Anyone who shares their lives and homes with dogs or cats can tell you that they all love to Help. And they are Very Helpful Indeed. Animals like to Help with all kinds of tasks and chores, whether it's sorting laundry or cooking dinner or raking leaves.

I think there’s some kind of Universal Furry Helper Law at work, as well: the amount of Help you need from your furry friends is in inverse proportion to the number of animals who feel the need to Help.

For example, when I’m making dinner, there are at least 5 noses, 10 eyeballs and 20 paws in attendance, all there to help test the food or at least, clean the floor.  I don't really need that kind of help when I cook. Too many chefs spoil the broth and all that.

Yet I could really use Help cleaning the litter box or putting dog toys away.  Though, admittedly, the dogs sometimes Help. But there’s a bit of disagreement in the task assignments, based on the definition of “away.” Or how exactly I want to clean the litter box: the cat poo goes in the toilet, not in the dog.

Below are a few pictures of my furry friends--past and present--Helping.

Lilah, Tucker and Jasper Help with the yard work. Here, they are Inspecting the tarp we use to move fallen leaves and other yard debris into our compost pile. All three are Very Thorough Inspectors. After this picture was taken, they gave the all clear sign by running around and biting each other.

Lilah and Jasper are also a big Help when it comes to raking leaves. I rake them, and then they charge through the piles, crunching up the leaves into little itty bits. Makes it better for composting I think. At least that's what the dogs tell me. 

Pasha's favorite way to Help was to patrol the yard. It needed to be Safe. From Birdies. And Squirrels. And Deer. Or there may be a Skunk, which would have to be investigated.

Rosie Helped protect the yard from Evil Deer. Because you never knew about Deer. Sometimes they didn't even run away when you barked at them, which is Highly Suspicious Behavior.

With Pasha and Rosie no longer with us, Jasper has taken over patrol duties. Though Tucker also Helps quite a bit; he tries to bark the Deer away as well, but as Rosie found out, they don't always listen. Which calls for more barking. Of course.

All the animals are very good at Helping inspect packages. Particularly gift bags. Here Pasha performs a sniff test on a birthday gift.

Rosie was the Biggest Help with gift bags. Not only did she inspect them, but she often contributed to the gifts, by dropping a wet, shlorby ball into the Best Bag. Then you had to take said slimy ball out the bag, remove the stray bit tissue paper that clung to it,  and then Throw the Ball. That was part of the experience. 

Athena also Helps with bags, though, in her opinion, the only way to truly inspect them is from The Inside. Here, Tucker is Inspecting the Inspector in the bag. Everybody Helps.

Everybody chips in when there's a big occasion, particularly; if there's food involved like on Thanksgiving or Passover.

Dawn and Athena Help by checking out the groceries. Every bag must be investigated to make sure we got the right stuff. Um, excuse me, where's the cat food?

I believe it was Tucker who Helped me with my list of things to do to get ready for Passover this year. While "Take Tucker to puppy class" was on this list, there was no entry for "Give Tucker a treat" or "Belly rubs for Tucker" or even "Take Tucker for a walk." Do-over!

What's the wet stuff coming out of the sink? Athena Helpfully points out the water that needs to be addressed before guests arrive. Surely they wouldn't want wet paws?

Here, Athena is Helping me get the good plates out of the buffet. I think she's checking to make sure they're all there. Though there's a mysterious absence of cat food bowls.

Setting the table: one of the many Helpful things Dawn does. Though technically, she's just setting--or maybe reclining--by the table. Corinne is actually putting plates and silverware and napkins on the table. Mere technicalities.

At Thanksgiving, Athena presides over the turkey cutting, Helping Brian with that task. And by Helping, we mean observing carefully in case there are mistakes and of course, she's there for any tasting that might need to take place. Athena is Very Helpful that way.

Rosie always Helped Brian do the dishes. Sometimes she just watched to make sure he was doing it right. Other times, she Helped by prewashing the dishes before the dishwasher was turned on. Then the dishwasher didn't have to work as hard.

All the animals love to help with the laundry. Rosie used to Help me carry the clothes downstairs to the laundry room by grabbing on to anything dangling or dragging as I walked, and tugging. She also loved to sleep in the pile of dirty laundry while I sorted it. Our current pets aren't quite as involved in that area, but they do love to Help.

Athena makes sure that the clothes in the hamper are the correct ones and that they do, indeed need to be washed.

Dawn and Athena stand guard over a pile of laundry awaiting its turn in the washing machine. You never know; a sock or t-shirt might try to escape. Best to keep watch. Dawn is in full meatloaf position. (See Vocabulary Lesson #1 for meatloaf definition.)

Both cats Help test out the stackable drier, where we lay out our delicate clothes. Yep, it looks like it will stand up to any item of apparel with sharp pointy edges.

After all the clothes are clean, Dawn disappears into the closet to help put things away. Walking along the tops of the hangers is Very Helpful because that way she can make sure everything is properly hung up.

There are so many ways our furry family members help around the house.

Rosie Helped fill up the pool. She was a great water taste tester.

Athena climbed a ladder once to Help Brian change some light bulbs.

Mission accomplished!

Both cats love to help me work in my office. Rearranging my pens--moving them from desk to floor in particular--is Very Helpful.

Ensuring that the paper comes out of the printer is another task that is best performed by cats. They know about sneaky little creatures that hide in dark places. You never know when another page will come out of that electronic cave!

When we're all done with chores, Athena will Help us relax by choosing the Best television program to watch. One about birds would be good, don't you think?