Friday, March 13, 2020

Hey, Siri!

'King Tut' of Victoria

At one of our home sits on beautiful Vancouver Island, we had the pleasure of caring for a handsome and cooperative cat.

“Tut”, who we affectionally called ‘King Tut’ was allusive at first but soon learned that Frank and I provided his food, water, special treats, and we cleaned his litter box regularly. He became an absolute delight once he got to know us.

The luxurious home also had a built-in computer network which managed the lights, door locks, the televisions and the cat door. 

Our view from Tut's home

King Tut had had an electronic device implanted into his ear and each time he walked near the cat door it presented a hissing sound.


“He hates it,” the homeowners told us. “So, you’ll have to watch for him at the back door.”


“No problem,” we chimed.

Frank at the back door

The networked home operated on automatic timers. At first, when Frank went to drag the garbage bin to the road, he was locked out. We learned to carry the house keys with us at all times.

One night, we chose to stay up late. At 11 p.m. all the indoor lights went off and a series of floor lights like those on an aeroplane lit up. We used that path to guide us down two flights of stairs, along an L-shaped hallway and into our bedroom.

As we passed the laundry room, day or night, the overhead light would flash on. After 5 minutes it turned off. To prevent a strobe-like sequence while the cat prowled at night, we slept with our door closed.

‘Siri’ proved to be an electronic bully. Her primary function was to provide us with music and news broadcasts.

Siri, behind the couch

“To operate Siri,” the homeowner said, “You have to say ‘Hey, Siri’ and then tell her what you want to listen to.”

Three days into the sit, I wanted to hear some familiar music.

“Hey, Siri,” I said, “Play Gordon Lightfoot.”

“Gordon Lightfoot. OK.”

After listening to a great arrangement of his most popular songs Siri opted to play some country music from her playlist.

“Hey, Siri, please turn off the music.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t recognize your voice.”

“Don’t recognize my voice? I turned you on with this voice.”

She continued to play her music.

“Hey, Siri! If you don’t shut off, I’m going to unplug your power cord and throw you over the balcony.”

The house went quiet.