Lap Time is Not Talk Time: Blue's Zoom Etiquette

Hi, I’m Amanda! Read my introduction to learn more about me and Blue, my fluffy fire point Himalayan-Persian cat.

Zoom calls are a frequent occurrence here at Hepper. Having a diverse team that spans so many corners of the world means we connect via video chat often. Where other companies may shy away from allowing their pets to pop up on camera or bark obsessively in the background, our pets are welcome to join our chats in any capacity. We embrace them in all of their quirky glory – meddling keyboard walkers and noble lap sitters alike.

Show Up or Show Out

Although she’s not one to be front and center, Blue strives to partake in each Zoom meeting I participate in. However, I believe she has two personas for clocking in. The first is very eager; if possible, she’d likely be quickest to join. Not because her time management is above par, but because she spends 90% of her time within the frame my camera points to. Merely by default, she’d have excellent attendance most of the time.

On the flip side, that lingering 10%, Blue parades in fashionably late, and if you follow along with her story, you know this girl will shamelessly find her way into my lap regardless of whether she has my approval.

Meeting Mischief

This is highly topical for me at the moment. We hold one of our team meetings monthly where each department presents their projects and progress. Most days, Blue snoozes through my calls or grooms herself in the bed, thoughtfully placed on the table behind me, so if she so chooses, she can peer into my screen, scanning the faces of our co-workers. Which almost always works out great for me since this is a call I am actively a part of. Despite my objections, she leaped onto my lap on this particular day and settled in, foregoing her usual goal of making it to her Nest without pause.

Sure, all is fine. We are without crisis as long as she remains still and quiet while I talk. As my time to share neared, I began nervously fluffing her fur, twirling it, burying my fingers as deep into her coat as they would go. I am not the world's best presenter as it is, and talking in front of a group is certainly not my strong suit.  I'm assuming she picked up on my energy and grew agitated with how I handled her. Mid-sentence, Blue whipped around and bit me as if to remind me that she is a living creature and not some fidget toy designed to absorb my stress.

Like the professional that I am, I choked on my words and fumbled to get through the rest of my spiel. Once out of the hot seat, I muted myself and flung my chair around so we faced the desk behind us. Without hesitation, Blue relocated. I scolded her softly and in the same breath, apologised for treating her like a finger-pincushion.

A Bite of Feedback

Hopefully, the takeaway here is that there is only one person, or cat, per chair during Zoom calls where I don’t impede her peace and she isn't prompted to vampire my hands. I know I’ve learned my lesson. The real question is, did she? I guess time will tell.