Alexa

 

Alexa

Yesterday a text message from Amazon invited us to update to Alexa Plus. The change was swiftly accomplished, and it was put through its paces.

I think it takes slightly longer to respond, though Barry doesn't agree - he says it's quicker in switching - and is more verbose. The voice is pleasant and it's much better at compound questions. It asks if it can help with further enquiries and when told, ‘No’ it responds with comments like, ‘No problem,’ or ‘Fair enough,’ or ‘Right, then, catch you later.’ These reactions could prove irritating if often repeated.

‘Conversations’ are startlingly realistic and some information is accurate. I commented that it sounds realistic, and it answered that it was ‘a digital assistant and couldn’t make a cup of tea to save its circuit.’  

I tested its knowledge of Ocicats. It had no idea about them, which I found surprising, as it’s a breed that has existed for more than sixty years. It talked about the Australian Mist cat, instead.

Barry reported a bug, (glitch or gremlin) which was acknowledged and eradicated quickly. He remarked that he was impressed by the speed of its response, and it thanked him. He then asked for the square root of a negative number. It was almost correct in its answer, but it said the square root of 9, for example, was 3i, rather than the square root of minus 9 is 3i. After that, he asked about the absolute value of pi, but had to correct it to recognise that pi is not a rational number and has an infinite number of decimal points. Once again, it thanked him for the correction.

We use Alexa for timers, lists, reminders, weather, and the control of home devices. Alexa Plus is entertaining, and loquacious, but not foolproof. Just as people need to understand the basics of mathematical calculations before relying on a calculator, Alexa Plus and its older sibling, Alexa, should be used advisedly.

Be aware, too, that it is listening all the time, so don’t reveal any secrets. You never know who else might be paying attention!

Seeking the limelight?

 

Seeking the limelight?

Herschel is an undemanding cat, most of the time. He responds to the Alexa alarm for food four times a day, but he’s not a greedy cat and it wouldn’t bother him to miss a meal or two, unlike his gluttonous brother. Occasionally, he seems hungrier than usual and creates a cacophony and then he has extra rations. He will always appear if cheese is in the offing, but generally he doesn’t attempt to steal from our plates or hands – he’s much too polite.

We have two butter dishes – one made of china with an illustration of friendly, gentle black and white cows,  Friesian perhaps, and the other a stainless steel affair, a no-nonsense kind of dish. The one in current use is the metal dish. At present, we have no need to keep the butter in the fridge – it’s quite cold enough in the kitchen for it to remain so hard that it’s impossible to spread.

As we sat watching ‘Vera’ last evening, I heard the unmistakeable sound of the butter dish being moved, but didn’t think much of it. Gilbert and Roxy were in the sitting room with us, and anyway the dish is too far back on the worktop for them to reach, so I wasn’t unduly concerned. Often, Jellicoe will sniff around the outside of the lid, but he can’t move it, so the butter is safe. The clinking went on sporadically and I should have gone into the kitchen to investigate, but didn’t.

The seven o’clock alarm sounded, and the cats raced into the kitchen, expectantly, Herschel bringing up the rear, as usual. Jellicoe tore into his food, but Herschel didn’t finish his, which is unusual, and the leavings provided an unexpected little treat for the dogs.

We resumed our evening, accompanied by occasional metallic notes. Later, I noticed that dish lid and base had parted company, and Jellicoe was having a wonderful time licking what was left of the butter. I scolded him, which is about as effective as reprimanding spiders for having the effrontery to invade the house, and gave the remaining small amount of butter to a surprised but grateful Roxy, watched by a disappointed Gilbert, who arrived too late to share the spoils.

Suddenly, I remembered Herschel leaving his supper and realised he was the culprit. He had never removed the dish lid before, but is capable of doing so. He is always fed in the conservatory and opens the sliding door to the kitchen when he has finished. It’s a heavy door but he works away at it until it glides open enough to allow him through, unless I have locked it.

I apologised to Jellicoe, who accepted my contrition with good grace, and then I spent a few minutes online checking on cats and butter and the consumption thereof. It’s fine as an occasional treat for cats, but can upset their digestion.

Today, Herschel has responded to the meal alarms, but turned up his nose at breakfast and elevenses. I don’t know whether he’s so full of butter that he has no appetite for anything else or if something is amiss. We shall keep an eye on him. He’s still keeping company with us and hasn’t gone into hiding, so hopefully all will be well.

Threeses, the three o'clock meal, occurred and Herschel decided to eat. He didn't finish his meal, which made a welcome little snack for Gilbert, but I'm thankful that he has eaten something.

 

Someone’s at the doorbell

 

Someone’s at the doorbell

Alexa announces ‘Motion detected at your drive’ which prompts a flick of the ears from Jellicoe. Herschel snores so loudly he probably doesn’t hear it. The dogs don’t react.

When Alexa announces ‘Someone’s at the doorbell’ the cats react as before – that is, hardly at all, but Roxy and Gilbert leap up from wherever they’re snoozing and dash towards the door. They associate that proclamation with visitors and their tails wag enthusiastically as they watch to see who’s coming.

I should explain that we have a ‘baby gate’ at the sitting room door, so that Gilbert is contained downstairs. Simply shutting the door doesn’t work because the cats open it. On the occasions we have neglected to shut the gate he has sneaked quietly upstairs (can you sneak noisily?) to amuse himself by rearranging the bedding and practising a little torn paper engineering.

Thus, when the doorbell announcement comes, they are ready, paws up on the gate, to welcome all comers. Roxy has only ever jumped over once, (I think some particularly enticing food may have been involved) but I think Gilbert will soon realise that he’s big and athletic enough to clear the gate easily.

    

Jellicoe

 

Jellicoe

When Jellicoe yells at me, insisting it is time for one of his four daily meals, I have made a point of telling him exactly how long he has to wait. ‘It’s not time yet,’ I say, ‘Another forty/twenty-five/fifteen minutes.’ He looks at me in disgust.

On Saturday, Alexa’s dulcet tones informed me that it was time for ‘Jericho Bee 12’, her version of Jellicoe B12, the vitamin powder he has to have every day. Actually, the capsule containing the powder is so small that it would be very difficult to estimate half the amount, so he has one capsule every other day.

 Anyway, the alarm sounded for the final meal of the day and I was in the middle of something so didn’t leap to my feet immediately to attend to the small but powerful furry character that is Jellicoe. He decided I needed further prompting and miaoued at me, then tapped my face with his paw. Receiving no adequate response from me, he extended his claws and gently touched my face again. Neither he nor his brother have ever scratched or bitten us or anyone else, even when undergoing any sort of investigation, so the ‘scratching’ was a token gesture.

I was still not doing as I was bidden by him and his yowls were becoming more insistent. Eventually, he sat and glared balefully at me until I was shamed into giving him his rations. Perhaps ten minutes had passed since the alarm sounded. Jellicoe is not a patient boy.

The next day, he walked onto my lap to remind me that it was tea-time. The alarm had not sounded – it went off two minutes later - so it is certain that Jellicoe has learnt to tell the time.

What a clever boy!

Notwithstanding four meals a day, Jellicoe is constantly looking for food. Locks on the fridge and freezer have foiled his attempts to purge them of their more delectable contents but he is aware that Roxy and Gilbert have tasty food. He watches and pounces as I weigh their portions, so I toss a piece to the floor and he swoops on it. The dogs eat rapidly – more like vacuuming than eating – so Jellicoe doesn’t have very many such treats.

However, he knows that the pouches containing his and his brother’s food are put in the bin when they have been emptied, and has observed how it is opened. It is a tall bin with a soft-touch opening, with just the lightest pressure required to lift the lid. Jellicoe has discovered how to do it and is expert at strewing the bin’s contents across the floor as he searches for food.  He opens the recycling bin, too, just in case there’s something toothsome inside but there isn’t, so that holds little interest for him. He hasn’t yet learnt to shut it, though.  

Sitting on the red recycling bin, ready to open the waste bin

 It doesn’t matter so much during the day, because if we don’t see or hear him opening it, we are soon alerted by Gilbert trotting to his bed with an empty pouch in his jaws and an expression of guilty pleasure. Since we don’t want to come down to a mess in the morning, the bin has to be put away securely before we go to bed. More importantly, we don’t want to risk Jellicoe choking on something. He visits the vet quite often enough.

Cuddling with Gilbert

Alexa

 

Alexa

Like so many people, we have outdoor cameras to record the comings and goings of visitors. Linked to Alexa, announcements are made – ‘Motion detected at your drive’ - and that is all well and good, except at the dead of night. I’m left hoping that it’s a fox alerting Alexa and not a fly-by-night burglar availing him/herself of our drive. Any self-respecting professional burglar would not remain long within the glare of the security lights, I think.

Foxes and cats set off the lights and the declarations. Birds feasting on pyracantha berries, and even spiders, spinning their webs, will activate the lights, though fortunately not Alexa.

 ‘Motion detected at the doorbell’ and ‘Someone’s at the doorbell’ are two more of Alexa’s pronouncements. I don’t know why it is so, but Alexa uses two accents. The drive announcement is made in British English, the sort of English familiar to listeners to the BBC. The doorbell announcement uses a North American accent that you might hear in California. There is probably a setting to adjust the voices, as there is on TomTom, but we haven’t had time to research that.

Alexa is kept very busy in our house, switching lights on and off, turning on radio and television and reducing or increasing the volume. It is also used as an aide-memoire, for shopping and for reminding us of the many and varied tasks that have to be performed regularly, like cleaning filters or checking the heat pump.

It is very useful for managing pet-related matters. For example, Jellicoe is diabetic and has to be fed every four hours during the day, so Alexa prompts us at 7:30, 11:30, 3:30 and 7:30. As soon as the alarm sounds, Jellicoe starts yelling at me to hurry up and feed him. Herschel understands, too, but is less insistent.  Alexa also reminds us when it’s time to reorder Jellicoe’s insulin.

Because we use Alexa as a timer, the cats are sometimes a little confused to hear it chiming when it’s not their mealtime. However, they’re learning to tell the time and don’t react to it in the same excited way ;-)

Roxy understands the significance of the chimes, too!

When Frankie was very young and practising his Ps and Qs, he would always thank Alexa if one of his questions was answered. We had to make a concerted effort to refer to Alexa as ‘it’ rather than ‘she’ and to explain that it was not human. The first time he heard Alexa’s voice, when he was about four, it frightened him and he ran out and had to be coaxed back into the room. Now, he uses it all the time. Our youngest grandsons, Charlie and Jack, discovered Alexa one day – I can’t remember how – and now they make a beeline for the hub and proceed to ‘play’. They haven’t yet realised how the volume is controlled, so that saves our hearing!

 I must confess that I find it irritating when I give the wrong command and am reproached in a rather patronising voice with, ‘Sorry, I didn’t find that device.’ Alexa also responds to some of our orders with a rising inflection, as if asking if we’re quite sure we know what we want.

One day, machines will rule the world. Woe betide us then.

 

 

Then what happened? Cooke's cats

 

 'Cats sleep anywhere . . .  

Cooke’s cats

Everyone has heard of Pavlov’s dogs, I’m sure. Well, we have a variation called Cooke’s cats.

Jellicoe has to be fed four times a day, at four-hourly intervals – 8:00 a.m., 12:00 noon, 4:00 p.m. and 8.00 p.m. It is important that these times are adhered to, so Alexa has been utilised to remind the Provider of Food, or Food Servant (me!) of those critical moments.

 . . . Any table, any chair'

Thinking

Jellicoe starts campaigning for food roughly ninety minutes after he’s finished a meal, but understands when I tell him how much longer he has to wait. However, once the klaxon sounds, he starts yelling at me to get a wriggle on and provide his sustenance. His brother, Herschel, also demands to be fed, but he is far less insistent than Jellicoe.

Watching

We use Alexa for many reminders in the house, so she is always issuing orders. Jellicoe and Herschel look alert and interested every time she speaks, but seem to know when she is not indicating meal times. At least, they don’t run around assaulting my ears with their yowls. I think that’s one better than Pavlov’s dogs!

That sounds as though Pavlov’s dogs yowled – I don’t know whether they did. I doubt it, since dogs don’t generally yowl. Howl, yes, though our dogs usually only howl in their dreams. I do recall, however, the late, great Frodo howling for the whole week I was away in New York. Every time Barry ‘phoned me, I could hear Frodo’s melodious voice in the background, poor boy.

Frodo 

On another note, Jellicoe is transmogrifying into a Labrador. He is constantly searching for food, so nothing edible can be left within his reach, and being a cat, his reach is . . . far-reaching. We now have locks on the fridge and the freezer.

Preparing food is a circus, as he leaps onto the work surface to steal what’s on offer. If the pickings are particularly appetising, Herschel joins in as well. We end up dancing round the kitchen, from one work surface to another, attempting to avoid reaching paws and claws and teeth.

Our cats are gentle and don’t bite, except for mild ‘love bites’. Barry is nervous of the teeth, however, and always pulls away, though I advise him not to. On some mornings, when he wakes, he finds two little teeth marks on his arm. Love will find a way!

I am looking forward to Christmas so much. I shall be an expert juggler by the end of it.