Press Pawse: 24 Hours With Lauren & Willow

Hi, I’m Lauren, a writer and baker. I spend a lot of time creating imaginary worlds and baking breads inspired by my fluffy son, Willow. 

Willow is a four-year-old farm boy, meaning we’re basically the same age in human years. We’re both lovers and yearners, and struggle with stubbornness. 

When I first met Willow he was so tiny I could hold him in the palm of my hand. He looked like one of Hayao Miyazaki’s whimsical little sprites buzzing around the apartment. We came together in 2020, after my brother told me he knew someone whose barn cat had just had kittens. He was planning to adopt a companion for his tabby son (an orange kitty he named Leo). I ended up adopting Willow, Leo’s brother, which means my brother and I are raising sibling cats who get to see each other and snuggle (and wrestle) when we go home for the holidays. 

Willow immediately took to spending his time napping on his favorite pillow, hoarding toys, and surveying the sidewalk from our apartment window. He's passionate about his hobby as a collector, and we often find his trove of tchotchkes (tiny toys, stolen bottle caps) that he likes to hide under the rug. He loves inspecting packages when mail arrives, peering at my progress from the top step when I'm baking, and doing quality checks on Tyler’s (my partner) film gear, when he’s setting up for a shoot. He also enjoys being pampered and having his long, dark hair brushed. 

We also live with a roommate and sweet rescue cat named Honey, who Willow loves to follow around the apartment. He’s still awaiting her approval.  

• 8:00 am

  Because I work from home most days, I’m fortunate enough to be able to wake up at the last minute this morning. Willow, of course, has been awake, and has already had breakfast thanks to Tyler’s morning bird tendencies. Now, Willow has an unexplained case of the zoomies. I hear him before I see him. He rattles up and down the stairs, puzzling Tyler, who asks him what he’s doing galloping across the entire apartment. Willow doesn’t feel the need to explain himself. After his sunrise workout, Willow spends the rest of the morning patrolling the window, from where he can see neighbors and neighborhood dogs stopping by the cafe next door. He listens for Blue, the dog who lives across the hallway. He tries to trick me into giving him more breakfast by staring at me wistfully from his favorite corner of the kitchen. 

• 8:30 AM

  Willow settles down and happily accepts some snuggles. I sit down for breakfast. Willow returns to his bowl to finish his own food. His favorite meals are Smooth Bird and Smooth Fish. I make coffee and clean the kitchen. When I get up for a glass of water, Willow demands a fresh ice cube in his own water bowl, a luxury he has come to expect. 

• 9:00 AM

  Willow has toys strewn all over the apartment at all times. He’s especially fond of his Smalls Ham Bone catnip crochet toys, which he usually tries to hide between his paws. He and Honey play in the living room for a while. In between answering emails, I swing around a string toy his grandma got for him. He nestles into his favorite floor pillow to ponder and peer at the commotion outside the window. I continue to write emails and start research for my recipes.

   

• 9:20 AM

  We’re busy playing, when outside our door, Willow hears a familiar trot, and the jangle of Blue’s collar. It sounds like he’s just returning from a morning walk. They’ve never met, but I know they know the other is there. Willow’s ears perk up until Blue is inside his own apartment and the door has swung closed. 

• 9:30 AM

  I shower and get ready for the day. Willow does an assessment (extremely thorough sniffing) of a new rug I recently added to the living room. He decides any added soft surface for sleeping is always welcome. 

• 9:45 AM

  I vacuum before I head out for the day, which Willow isn’t particularly happy about. But he is very brave, and even oversees my progress from atop the stairs to ensure I’m cleaning the apartment to his satisfaction. 

• 10:00 AM

  I have the day off from my usual food writing job, so I prepare to run a few errands in Manhattan. Before I head out, Willow requests some snacks. He rarely meows for food, he simply stares intensely into my soul from his designated food corner next to the refrigerator. I give him a few catnip treats because it's been a long week for everyone, (it’s only Wednesday) and he deserves it. 

• 2:00-4:00 PM

  I’m a freelance content creator, and I begin testing a pie recipe I’m planning to share. On baking days, especially if I’m filming, the process takes up most of the day. I also feel rushed to capture natural light, especially during the winter months. Today I’m making an apple pie with a colorful woven crust to look like a knit scarf. Willow is usually close by, assessing my process. He usually looks down at me as he dangles his front paws from the top step, or propped up on his usual pillow near the window.. 

• 4:15-6:15 PM

  I’ve made the crust and apple filling and begin filming, while Willow judges my progress from his favorite velvet chair. He falls asleep curled up like a little toasted cinnamon roll.  I don’t dare disrupt his afternoon nap, because he’s already worked very hard today. Instead, I tiptoe a large circle around his chair every couple of minutes to get the right camera angle. Willow snoozes contentedly until I drop a loud pan, an affront that is just too much for him to handle, and he leaves to hang upstairs with Honey. 

• 6:15 PM

  Willow emerges from upstairs, where he likes to spend the afternoon with our roommate listening to music, napping on his fresh laundry, and exercising his independence. Because of the recent time change, Willow thinks it’s time for dinner and begins his intense pre-meal staring routine, before eventually going back upstairs. 

• 7:00 PM

  Tyler and I try out a new rice dish for dinner.  Willow appears on the stairs to oversee my work as I get his dinner ready. When it’s ready and plated to perfection, Willow trots down the stairs. Before delving into his meal, he does a big stretch to prepare himself, and greets Tyler by brushing against his legs. 

• 8:00 PM

  Tyler and I watch a movie and Willow snuggles up in his bed, not particularly interested in watching. (He tends to prefer black and white films). 

• 10:00 PM

  Willow likes to end his day with a little exercise. He loves playing fetch (I throw and he chases but does not bother bringing it back) with his Smalls drumstick before bed. He slides across the hardwood floor, weaving in and out of furniture. Afterwards, he likes to wind down with some head scritches. He does one final inspection of the apartment, before burrowing into bed.