Well, I guess I'm well and truly adopted!
I'm visiting my friend, and she's got out her CD player, and she's playing all her golden oldies.
The cat doesn't mind the quieter songs. But I was seated in a corner, going through my Facebook feed, when a noisy song came on. Pretty soon, the kitten climbed up on my lap, and looked in my eyes. Please, make it stop, was what she was telling me!!
The next song was a lot quieter, so she perked up and looked about, and seemed to say: That's much better, and she strolled off. She obviously thinks of me as her personal volume control.
My friend had been taking things out of the coat closet—where she keeps the winter coats. The cat had been outside, and came in, and after the little incident of the music, she noticed the closet door standing open.
She studied it carefully; she obviously hadn't seen it open in a long time. She walked over, and carefully studied the inside of the closet, and then went closer, and studied it some more. There's not any sort of sense she can make of it; she's probably thinking: Wow, that's a lot of stuff. She makes a mental note of it, and then moseys off to do more cat things.
She keeps a careful eye on where I am, so that she can come and get me when I'm needed!
My Fb feed is now full of cats in Florida and Arizona, who have either been lost, or stray cats—in those same states—that have been picked up. Cat owners in those states seem awfully careless about their pets. Or, they let their cats out, and they (the cats) go exploring, and then get lost.
For all our silliness, Pennsylvania cat parents appear to be pretty good at keeping track of where the cats are. In the deep South, though, they're apparently too busy to keep an eye on them.
I don't know what to do about being inundated with cat stories. I'm just going to enjoy them a little longer.
Kay