A day in the life of Lyra, a fully qualified* Quilt Cat - including top studio sleeping spots!

*qualifications pending verification

As Transcribed and translated by Cait Lisle

I like to start my day at about 6am. They say the early bird catches the worm - and I can grab the bird while it’s messing about with that wriggly thing! (ED: If by “bird” you mean a handful of feathers…).

I find that the best way to wake one of my humans is to poke them with a gentle paw. (ED: It is NOT gentle). Maybe a light “meow”. If, however, they have cruelly locked me out of their bedroom then a cacophony of caterwauling seems absolutely appropriate.

Once awakened, one of the humans will normally open the door of the sewing studio for me. This is when my work starts in earnest!

My first task is make sure that nothing has changed since the previous evening. A quick snuffle of the quilt baskets and ladder make sure they’re all accounted for. Hopping up onto the cutting table lets me check that the latest bundle of fabric is still adjusted to my comfort, and adorned with an appropriate amount of black fur. Then I saunter to the other side of the table - to introduce you to my first sleeping spot.

The human calls this a “woollen mat”. I call it wonderful-heat-retaining-snug-mat. (ED: This is the closest translation I could get - Lyra was slightly distracted by purring in pleasure). The human often puts a big, black, mouse-shaped thing on it, and then it’s especially warm. But even without that, it seems to reflect my body heat. The warmth, plus its softness, makes it an excellent place to sleep. Additionally, it’s higher up than the human’s desk, so I have an excellent view of what she’s doing.

However, do not let this fool you into believing that I spend all my time lazing around! I am a busy cat, with many things to do. Such as breakfast. And second breakfast. (ED: Peter Jackson, if you’re reading, I’ve found a real hobbit). Sadly, second breakfast is often interrupted by the terrifying sound of a doorbell.

After sprinting upstairs to make sure I have the best possible vantage of potential intruders (ED: That’s what you call it?), it’s time to carefully assess any packages. I like to start with the outside; does it crackle? Does it crinkle? Does it provide ample room to crawl into? After this, I’ll move on to the inside. It’s incredibly important that all fabric deliveries are checked for comfort. A spot of advice for any novice quilt cats: sit on the fabric. Always. (ED: Or you could not. You never contribute to the cost of lint rollers).

Before we move onto the afternoon, I have a very important piece on knowledge to impart. The media has told you that cats love to roll around, playing with balls of wool. Wool and thread are NOT the same. Playing with thread is not only less satisfying, but actually hurts if it gets wrapped around you. Leave the stuff alone - I’ve tried it so you don’t have to. (ED: Yeah, but you weren’t the one who had to rewind the bobbin…).

Reaching the afternoon necessitates a change of sleeping spot. Only AMATEURS stay in the same spot for the whole days. (ED: Lyra, I don’t think your sister is actually going to read this). My personal choice is the top of my human’s storage unit. I like to take advantage of the black colour and the shadow of the corner to blend into the darkness, like the true panther I am. And sometimes lick my butt.

However, if my human starts cutting fabric up, I’m instantly back on duty. Every single cut piece of fabric needs to be inspected for adherence to the paper pattern. And fear not, that paper pattern was also inspected! If they pass the test, I let the human pile them up for me. It makes them much more fun to knock over that way.

When the human isn’t working with fabric, she often does something she calls “pattern writing” on her computer. I honestly find this part rather boring, leading us to the introduction of another top sleeping spot. After adding my own contribution to her typing (ED: There’s a reason why I’m transcribing this. Lyra’s typing leaves something to be desired - mainly coherency), I like to hop onto the grey chair by the desk. The human was nice enough to make me a quilted cushion especially to sleep on, plus there’s excellent proximity to a radiator.

Finally, dinner approaches. All that’s left is a final quality check and photoshoot. It is of vital importance that every finished quilt gets a thorough check over. It should be soft, cosy and cuddly. Its threads should be buried to avoid tempting any younger, less experienced cats. And it should be a colour that gives my shiny coat an excellent backdrop. (ED: Because obviously I only make quilts to be backdrops).

Then the human likes to take some photos. I’m often tired after a long day of quality control, so it’s not my fault if my eyes are closed in some. Plus, it shows what they actually look like in use! A final dusting of black fur (on fabric, the floor, and the human, if she’s good) and the studio is closed until tomorrow.

It’s a tough job, one not for every cat. Most kittens couldn’t handle this responsibility. I am quick-witted. I am qualified. I am Quilt Cat.