Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: pet owners

  • Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (I Think So.)

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (I Think So.)





    We’ve all been there. You know, that moment when you’re scarfing down leftover takeout at 2 AM in your pajamas and you glance up at your perfectly poised houseplant, bathed in the glow of the refrigerator light, and swear you see a look of judgment in its…leaves? Okay, maybe it’s just me. But hear me out!

    When My Fiddle Leaf Fig Sided With My Cat

    It all started with Ferdinand, my majestic fiddle leaf fig. He’s the kind of plant that just exudes an air of quiet sophistication, you know? Always perfectly positioned in the sunlight, leaves gleaming like emerald dinner plates. One day, I was having a particularly stressful day – deadlines looming, laundry piling up, the whole nine yards. I may have unleashed a string of curse words at the microwave when my leftovers refused to heat evenly. Suddenly, I noticed Ferdinand’s leaves seemed to droop ever so slightly. At the same time, my cat, Mr. Jinx (who, let’s be honest, lives a life of pure luxury compared to my own), sauntered over to Ferdinand and rubbed against his pot with a smug look on his furry little face. Was it my imagination, or did Ferdinand lean in for a head scratch? I swear, they were both judging me.

    Judging My Watering Schedule?

    Then there’s my succulent collection. Now, succulents are supposed to be low-maintenance, right? The “chill” plants, content with minimal water and sunlight. Well, mine seem to have missed the memo. I swear, every time I forget to water them for a few days (okay, maybe a week…or two), they shrink just a little bit more. It’s like they’re saying, “Seriously? Again? We’re trying to thrive here, but you’re making it really hard with your inconsistent watering schedule.” And the worst part? They’re right. I am a hot mess when it comes to remembering to water my plants. But do they have to be so passive-aggressive about it?

    Peace Lily and the Monday Blues: A Conspiracy?

    But the final straw? It has to do with my peace lily. Now, peace lilies are supposed to be dramatic, right? They wilt dramatically when they need water, then perk right back up after a good drink. Well, mine has taken it to a whole new level. It’s like clockwork: Every Monday morning, just as I’m scrambling to get ready for work, I notice my peace lily has staged a dramatic fainting spell. Leaves drooping, the whole shebang. And every time, without fail, I end up being late for work because I’m too busy reviving my melodramatic plant. Coincidence? I think not. I’m convinced my peace lily is in cahoots with the Monday blues.

    Help! Are My Plants Judging Me?

    Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe it’s just the stress of being a millennial trying to adult in this crazy world. Or maybe, just maybe, my plants really are judging my life choices. What do you think? Am I alone in this, or have you ever caught your houseplants throwing some serious side-eye?


  • My Cat Thinks He’s a Dog, and Here’s the Hilarious Proof

    My Cat Thinks He’s a Dog, and Here’s the Hilarious Proof





    My Cat Thinks He’s a Dog: Hilarious Proof of His Canine Antics


    My Cat Thinks He’s a Dog: Hilarious Proof of His Canine Antics

    We all know cats have a reputation for being independent and aloof. They strut around like they own the place, demanding head scratches on their terms. But my cat, Mittens, throws that stereotype out the window. He’s more interested in belly rubs, chasing squirrels in the backyard, and cuddling on the couch. Basically, he thinks he’s a dog trapped in a feline body. Don’t believe me? Let me tell you about the day I realized my precious Mittens had gone full-on canine.

    Exhibit A: The Case of the Stolen Sock

    Picture this: I’m rushing around, trying to get ready for work, when I notice my sock drawer is half empty. Now, I’m not the most organized person, but I knew something was up. Then I saw him. Mittens, my sweet, fluffy cat, was strutting around with a sock hanging out of his mouth, tail wagging furiously.

    Now, cats are known for batting around toys, but this was different. He wasn’t just playing; he was proudly parading my sock like a prized possession. He even brought it to me, dropping it at my feet with an expectant meow. I swear I saw him wag his nonexistent tail. From that moment on, sock-stealing became his favorite pastime.

    Sock Thief to Fetch Enthusiast

    We all know dogs love to fetch, but cats? Not so much. Well, try telling that to Mittens. It all started with a crumpled-up ball of paper. One toss, and he was hooked. He’d chase after it with an intensity that would put any border collie to shame, bring it back, and drop it at my feet, demanding another round.

    The Unending Demand for Fetch

    His obsession with fetch knows no bounds. He’ll chase anything: toys, pens, even the occasional rogue dust bunny. And the funniest part? He expects me to throw things for him constantly. Let’s just say my throwing arm has never gotten a better workout.