The woman is distressed with me today. Because of that blasted feather she found on her verandah.
I am seriously beginning to wonder if she understands anything at all about science, or has any inkling of the nature of sentient beings.
The world is divided into 3 parts :-
(1) cat, (2) non-cat prey, (3) non-cat other.
I’ll go and give her a solid head butt. That always dispels her sullen moods.
Pathetic old thing. She gets all silly when I bunt, purr, knead, need, meow and snuggle with her. She doesn’t realise that, when one is on a higher plane of existence, these rituals are incredibly boring.
I do it to humour her (and ensure that she always opens the can).