Tulip keeps discovering new ways to entertain herself. We now fight for a place at the bathroom sink. Sometimes she fills up the whole sink with her body, looks at me encouragingly to turn the tap on. Whether I'm washing my hands or brushing my teeth, she always joins me. She doesn't seem to mind the fact that she gets wet.
There's a wooden lateral file cabinet in the living room where Tulip's food and water bowls sit. A few months ago, Tulip started standing in her water bowl. Naturally, the dirt on her feet would fall to the bottom. Is that why she's so determined? She starts slapping the water, just like a toddler splashes water in a bathtub. Next, she daintily shakes off her wet paws, then leans over the front of the wooden filing cabinet to lap up the water that spilled down the front of the furniture and onto the floor.
There's a table nearby, just a short hop away where Tulip can look out the window for any bird action. Luckily, the table is topped by glass. There are so many puddy-paws-tracks added to her perch.
😸
Then there are times I can't find her. Tulip rarely visits the western side of the house, where my office, spare bedroom and bathroom are. Maybe I should say I don't use those rooms very often. When I vacuumed last week, I discovered all the toilet paper had found its way onto the floor. Rather than put a new roll out as a replacement, I set a fresh roll on top of the toilet, but wrapped it within two hand towels. That was a few days ago. I need to see if my "fix" was successful.
So, there are times when the cat's nowhere to be found. She always has access to the kitchen and living room, but she doesn't respond to my calls. The main bathroom and bedroom doors are usually closed. Where could Tulip be? I discovered her new haunt: she crawls under the back of the living room's double recliner. If I didn't see her head poke out one day, it would still remain her little secret.
😺
