We all love our pets, and they love us. They try to fit into our human lives as best they can. And they try to help us as best they can. Following are some of the ways my cat Mikey has been helpful to me over the years:
It usually takes me about 30 minutes to dust. With Mikey's help, maybe 40. Or maybe I don't finish. He likes to wrestle with paper towel rolls. I don't like to interfere with the match.
I have a small, New York kitchen and a large cat. He doesn't so much try to help me cook. But he does like to kibbitz. Added time with Mikey's help--about 10 minutes a meal.
This may be Mikey's favorite way to help me. Can't finish? I'll help. If I have to interrupt my meal for any reason, I have to put the food in a drawer because Mikey might help me more than I want or need helping.
When I'm at my computer, Mikey likes to be right by my side. He stands on his hind legs and bats at the keyboard. With Mikey's help, I do lots of backspacing and deleting.
Psycho with a feline.
As I take my shower, Mikey plants himself between the shower curtain and the shower curtain liner. He bats at me as I pass by. The first time, it was a shock. Now, his help does not affect the outcome.
I'm an editor/proofreader. Mikey likes to help by serving as a paperweight, not that there are any strong breezes wafting through my apartment. With Mikey's help, I can't get any work done at all. I can't even see the work. (Note: If he's not serving as a paperweight, he likes to nibble on some of my projects. I don't view this as help.)
I should have labeled this, Waking Up. He doesn't do anything to help me sleep. But he has made a fine art of waking me up. Method 1:
Sniff my eyelids. Is she still in there? Method 2:
Breathe on my face. Method 3:
Make little whiney noises. Method 4:
Shriek at the top of his lungs and hurl himself on the bed. All effective.
So what does your pet do to help you get through your day-to-day existence?