Last Updated on May 24, 2026 by admin
Greta is a twelve-year-old tortoiseshell who lives on the third floor of a triple-decker in Brookline, Massachusetts. On Sundays she answers reader mail. She accepts payment in fish-shaped treats.
—
Dear Greta,
My cat Bartholomew has been knocking my coffee mug off the counter every single morning for the past four weeks. He waits until I am holding the milk. He looks me in the eye. Then he extends one paw and applies steady pressure. I have lost six mugs. What is going on?
— Sleep-Deprived in Sandusky
Greta replies:
Sleep-Deprived, your cat is not knocking your mug off the counter. Your cat is performing an audit.
It is the cat’s job — and I cannot stress this enough, it is the only job — to verify, twice daily, whether each item in the house is still bound by gravity. Most of them are. The coffee mug, you will note, also is. The data are confirmed.
The fact that you have not adjusted your behavior in response to four weeks of consistent results does not, by the cat’s reading, reflect on the cat. It reflects on you.
If you would like to reduce mug losses, I recommend either (a) drinking your coffee in the bathroom with the door closed, like a person being held hostage, or (b) accepting that the mugs are a tribute payment and pricing them accordingly.
—
Dear Greta,
My cat sits on the dining-room table and stares at the wall behind me for about ten minutes every evening at exactly 7:45. There is nothing on the wall. What is she looking at?
— Concerned in Cleveland
Greta replies:
Concerned, the cat is looking at the entity that lives in your wall. You are correct that there is nothing there. The cat is correct that there is something there. You are both right. Welcome to the third floor.
—
Dear Greta,
My new kitten has, in the past two weeks, knocked over the trash can, eaten three houseplants, and broken a vase that has been in my family since 1972. What can I do?
— Despairing in Denver
Greta replies:
Despairing, your kitten is two weeks into her job. She does not yet know which surfaces are correct and which are not, which items are forbidden and which are deeply forbidden, and which 1972 vases are load-bearing in the family story. She is conducting experiments. The vase was an experiment. The plants were an experiment. The kitten herself is an experiment.
I am sorry about the vase. The vase did not survive the experiment.
Most things, eventually, do not.
—
Submit your questions for Greta to the third-floor windowsill, in writing, in legible print, with a fish-shaped treat clipped to the back of the envelope. Greta replies as time permits, between naps, which is to say: rarely.
🐾