No, not cat quilts. Nor quilted cats.
That is clearly how Alvin and Raven see themselves. They LOVE quilts.
They love when I’m piecing them.
They particularly love when I’m hand quilting them (especially Alvin).
And they love to hang out on them after they’re finished.
[I know this appears that it’s mainly Alvin. It’s not. He just sits still long enough to let me get a picture, whereas Raven dashes off before there is photographic evidence.
I have to be very careful when I’m working on a quilt that is destined to go to someone else’s house, or the quilt will end up being 50% cat hair. I’m convinced, if I didn’t lock quilts away in a bin or put them on a high shelf, I’d come home to find the boys stuffing their loose fur into a quilt, like straw in a scarecrow.
That quilt – which I often refer to as The Ugliest Quilt – has become the default cat perch in the basement. If Alvin disappears for any length of time (and isn’t in the kitchen, trying to lick bacon grease out of a pan or open the bread cabinet), he can generally be found here.
I’ll walk into my room in the evening, flipping on the light switch, and he will raise his head and blink at me, grumpy about being disturbed. Then he’ll get up and walk around the entire bed, following me as I go about pre-bed chores.
It’s clearly become a favorite place, as you can tell from the copious amounts of cat hair.
If you ever get a quilt from me and wonder how it got cat hair inside it, this is why.