I was tempted to mention this in my About bio, but decided to save the geekiness for the blog. Aside from the Star Trek reference, that is.

My husband introduced me to Neko Atsume, the cat collecting app, and I’ve been playing it for months. On two devices! You put out food and after the cats have eaten their fill and played with toys, they leave you money in the form of fish and sometimes a little gift, like an old toothbrush or bottle cap. You can use the fake money to buy a variety of toys, a home renovation, and premium cat food for your beloved fake cats. It’s one of those passive games that’s best if you check it a couple of times per day and turn it off the rest of the time. When I first started playing, I got so excited and impatient at building my cat colony that I forked over real money to buy fake money to buy stuff for my fake cats. I think it was about $3 for 200 gold fish, the game currency. That topped up my coffers enough to buy a massive scratching post cat gym and expand my home to welcome in more cats. $3 well-spent.

The cats only come if you have the right combination of fun toy with their favourite food. If the food bowls are empty, the cats don’t meow at you or headbutt you until you fill them. They just don’t come. I guess they’re all feral cats, since you can’t pet them. The plus side? No litter box issues or vomit!

I’ve got all the rare cats, all the mementos, all the toys, and am close to getting all the renovations. I guess the phone wallpapers will be next, though I don’t intend to use any. A girl has to draw the line somewhere.

I cannot WAIT until it snows, which is a once in a blue moon special feature all Neko Atsume fans anticipate. The music changes, there’s snow on the ground, and it has nothing to do with worldwide weather at all. I’ll break out the big blue sled, the warm little stocking, and of course the heaters and hot pads. My fake little cats must be comfortable!

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Currently amusing myself with the Dixie Hemingway book series. Created by Blaize Clement and continued after her death by her son, John Clement, it’s about a former deputy-turned-petsitter in Florida who petsits for wealthy neighbours and, of course, solves crimes. I love how she refuses to order bacon at the diner, but stares at everyone else’s longingly until they share some of theirs with her (because we all know that if you don’t order it yourself, it doesn’t “count”). Anyone who has ever eaten with a dog around can easily envision her soulful puppy eyes at the tasty treats.

Dixie is a great petsitter. She takes her job very seriously. I am not a bird or dog person, but I love her stories of exercising a parrot on her arm by running back and forth and pumping her arm up and down so he can flap his wings. Or the sweet mini dachsund you have to sing to. And how her pet clients have favourite tv channels. She projects happy thoughts to her pet clients, positive that they understand. She talks to them. She plays with them. She worries about them.