Tag: measurement

  • Field Study: Bookshelves, an Unexplored Frontier

    Field Study: Bookshelves, an Unexplored Frontier

    For years the Laboratory has focused on tables. We have been told by the board that this is narrow. So in March, a field team of three cats set out to examine the bookshelf.

    The setting

    The shelf stood two metres tall and held 140 books, a clock, a ceramic frog and a candle that nobody had lit since 2019. It was, in short, a tempting environment.

    Observations

    The first book fell at 11:02 AM. It landed spine down, which we consider a good omen. The second book landed flat and made a noise that the whole building heard. A third book was dropped with such force that it opened and displayed a page about gardening.

    Conclusion

    Bookshelves are superior to tables for the study of books. We have asked the board to approve a bigger shelf and, separately, a smaller board.

    Equipment carried

    Each member of the field team carried a notebook, a stopwatch, a ruler, and a bag of treats that was empty by 9:30 AM. The notebook was also pushed. We recovered it the following day with a large paw print on the cover.

    Hazards

    The shelf was reached by a series of ascending surfaces: a chair, a side table, a printer, and the top of a refrigerator. The printer was not designed to bear a cat, and said so, loudly, in a series of beeps. The team ignored it, as is the Laboratory’s tradition with machines.

    Recommendations for future shelf work

    The team recommends the use of a soft landing zone, such as a pile of laundry, to protect fragile specimens. The team also recommends that the ceramic frog be treated with respect, since it fell last and survived.

    Summary of data

    The field team recorded 31 drops, of which 28 were confirmed falls and three were attempts that ended in a sulk. Average fall time was 0.64 seconds, a figure that the team considers a personal best for the building. One paperback, a large book about the history of rope, was dropped four times and was deemed to have enjoyed it.

  • Equipment Review: The Standard Glass of Water, Version 4

    Equipment Review: The Standard Glass of Water, Version 4

    The Standard Glass of Water has been the Laboratory’s workhorse since our founding. Version 4 improves on its predecessor in three important ways, and regresses in one.

    Improvements

    • The base has been narrowed by two millimetres, which makes it more eager to leave.
    • The walls are thinner, producing a higher pitched and more satisfying sound on impact.
    • The water now sits at an optimal level, high enough to cause a splash and low enough that nobody is angry about the amount.

    Regression

    The new glass is slightly heavier, and one of our smaller associates, a kitten named Parsley, cannot push it alone. We have addressed this by teaching Parsley to enlist a friend.

    Verdict

    Four out of five paws. We would give five, but the glass costs more than the cat, and the cat knows it.

    Technical specifications

    • Capacity: 250 millilitres of water, or 190 millilitres of water plus 60 millilitres of regret.
    • Height: 11 centimetres, a figure chosen for its appeal to the paw.
    • Weight when full: 410 grams, which is enough to be satisfying and not enough to hurt.
    • Colour: transparent, so that the water can be observed leaving.

    User testimonials

    “I have pushed twelve of these and not a single one has failed me.” Dumpling, Senior Associate.

    “Version 3 was a little stubborn. Version 4 is a dream.” Pickle, Junior Associate.

    “I do not push glasses. I merely stand near them.” Gerald, Head of Safety, who was seen pushing a glass.

    Care and maintenance

    Store the Standard Glass of Water on a high shelf, in the dark, away from cats. Then give up and store it wherever the cat has already decided it should be. Wash gently, dry carefully, and expect the unexpected, since the glass has a long and complicated history with the floor.

    Where to buy

    The Standard Glass is available from the Laboratory shop, which is a box by the door. Please leave a note and a coin. The note will be pushed.

  • How To Calibrate a Cat in Seven Easy Steps

    How To Calibrate a Cat in Seven Easy Steps

    Every measurement begins with calibration. A thermometer is checked against ice water, and a clock is checked against another clock. A cat, we are sorry to report, is checked against a snack.

    Step one: establish a baseline

    Place the cat in a neutral room with no furniture and no windows. Observe for ten minutes. Note the moment the cat finds the single speck of dust in the room and stares at it. This is your zero.

    Step two: introduce a reference object

    Use a standard reference pen. Our Laboratory uses a blue ballpoint, 14 centimetres long, with a chewed end. Place it on the floor in front of the cat and note whether it is ignored, batted, or carried away.

    Step three: check the whiskers

    Whisker span should be recorded in millimetres. If the cat objects, record the objection and the time.

    Step four to six: repeat

    Repeat steps one to three at morning, noon and the hour after dinner, because a cat calibrated on a full stomach is a different instrument from one calibrated on an empty one.

    Step seven: accept the result

    Your cat is now calibrated, in the sense that you know what she will do. She will do it when she decides to. Calibration remains valid until the cat sees a bird.

    Common calibration errors

    Many first time calibrators make the mistake of starting with a toy. A toy is a distraction, and a distracted cat is a variable. Remove all toys, string, tape, boxes, paper bags and anything that could be called a box by someone with imagination. If you are unsure, ask yourself whether the cat would sit in it. If so, it is a box.

    Another frequent error is calibrating in the presence of a window. The window contains birds, leaves, rain and the occasional wandering neighbour, all of which will ruin the reading. Calibrate in a windowless room, and if you do not have one, draw the curtains and hold your breath.

    Equipment you will need

    • One cat, preferably fed.
    • One reference pen, blue, slightly chewed.
    • One notebook, with a pen that is not the reference pen.
    • One sturdy table.
    • One lot of patience, which cannot be purchased and must be supplied by you.

    Interpreting your results

    If the cat pushes the pen immediately, your cat is a Type A subject, and is ready for field work. If the cat ignores the pen for four minutes and then pushes it while looking at you, she is Type B, a patient and theatrical subject, and we recommend caution around your good lamp.

    If the cat falls asleep on the pen, she is Type C. There is no known treatment for Type C. Type C cats are, however, excellent for morale, and several of our most senior associates fall into this group.

    A final word of reassurance

    Calibration is not about control. It is about understanding, and understanding is about letting go of the idea that you are in charge. Once you accept this, you may proceed to the drop test with a clear heart and a mop within reach.

    Troubleshooting

    If your cat refuses to sit on the scale, weigh yourself holding the cat and subtract. If your cat refuses to be held, weigh yourself holding a bag of flour of similar mood. If your cat has left the building, check the neighbour’s garden, and then check the top of the wardrobe, which is where cats go when they wish to be considered missing.

    Frequency of recalibration

    We recommend recalibrating once per season, and immediately after any of the following events: a house move, a new sofa, a visit from a relative, the introduction of a second cat, or the arrival of a parcel. Parcels in particular reset all known values to zero.

    Closing remarks

    Do not feel discouraged if the calibration fails. At the Laboratory, a failed calibration is simply a calibration that turned out to be about something else.

  • Methods Paper: The Mug at the Edge of the Counter, a 400 Trial Study

    Methods Paper: The Mug at the Edge of the Counter, a 400 Trial Study

    Abstract

    We report on 400 consecutive trials in which a ceramic mug was placed at varying distances from the edge of a kitchen counter, while a trained research cat observed from a distance of one metre. The primary outcome was whether the mug reached the floor. The secondary outcome was whether the researcher looked at us while it did.

    The mug reached the floor in 400 of 400 trials. We consider this a strong result, and the lab has since stopped ordering mugs in lots smaller than fifty.

    Background

    The existing literature on falling objects is, we regret to say, almost entirely written by people who were not in the room. Earlier work relied on dropping things from a height by hand, which introduces the problem that the hand is not a cat. A cat drops things with intent, and intent changes everything, including the mood in the room.

    Our founder, Dr. Biscuit Halloran, first proposed the edge hypothesis in a memo written on the back of a feed bag. It reads in full: “Things near edges want to leave.” The lab has built its funding model on this sentence and has not been asked to expand it.

    Method

    The mug was a standard 350 millilitre ceramic vessel, white, chosen because it makes a satisfying noise and because it was already in the sink. Each trial began with the mug placed at a marked distance from the counter edge: 20 centimetres, 10 centimetres, 5 centimetres, or flush. The research cat, a senior associate named Dumpling, was introduced at a distance and permitted to approach at her own pace.

    Observers recorded three things:

    • The time between the cat noticing the mug and the first paw contact.
    • The angle of the push, measured with a protractor that Dumpling later removed from the counter.
    • Whether the cat made eye contact with the nearest human before the final nudge.

    Results

    At 20 centimetres, the mug travelled to the edge in a median of 41 seconds, a delay we attribute to the cat feigning disinterest. At flush distance the median time dropped to under two seconds, and in six trials the mug fell before the cat had fully arrived. We have classified these as “anticipatory gravity” and request that nobody ask us what that means.

    Eye contact occurred in 391 of 400 trials. In the remaining nine, the cat was facing the wall, which we believe was a deliberate attempt to establish an alibi.

    Discussion

    The data support a model in which the cat is not merely a bystander to gravity but a collaborator with it. Gravity supplies the downward force. The cat supplies the idea. Neither works well without the other, which is why a dropped mug in an empty house is merely an accident, while one dropped in front of a cat is a result.

    We also observed that the sound of breakage had no measurable effect on the cat’s behaviour in the following trial. Dumpling was shown a shattered mug and then a fresh one, and she pushed the second at the same speed. We conclude that cats do not learn from consequences, or that the consequences are working as intended.

    Limitations

    The study used a single research cat. Dumpling declined to allow a second cat in the room on the grounds that she was busy. The mugs were also not randomised, as they were all the same mug, which was replaced each time by the lab manager at personal expense.

    Conclusion

    Mugs fall. Cats help. We recommend further funding, a larger counter and a mop.

    Ethics statement

    All mugs were already doomed. The research cat participated voluntarily, in the sense that nobody could stop her. No humans were harmed, though one was startled, and a second said a word that we have redacted from the record.

    Acknowledgements

    We thank the retired tuna merchant for his generous support, the lab manager for his patience, and the floor for being there.