This morning I was woken by a cat nipping my ankle through the sheet and summer blanket! No guesses as to which cat. A far more effective method than even an alarm-clock, let me assure you. Ginger was asleep, purring gently, between our backs at the time. When I awoke, so did she. She sat up, took one look at Bessie by my feet, jumped over Norman and dove under the bed.
As you know, we were away for the weekend, where we stayed at a very nice bed & breakfast inn at New Paltz. One remarkable point of interest was the fact that we were able to eat breakfast both mornings without having to defend our cereal bowls! How about them apples. Needless to say, things are back to where they were since our return home. Bessie is absolutely relentless and I suppose it's our own fault. But she's so cute!!! Daddy has a harder time of it than I do, because she insists on draping herself across the back of his neck and just laying there, virtually unremovable. She's only tried that once or twice with me and it doesn't work, so she has gotten off by herself both times........and both times has left me scratched on her way down.
Whenever I am at the kitchen table these days she comes to nuzzle my face, usually right across the newspaper or book I am trying to read. But it's lovely having her rub her face against mine. And I can hear a very quiet purring as she does it.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Thursday, August 21
I had an unbroken night's sleep last night. Now, that's not normally thought of as a rare event, but usually there is at least one disturbance. During the evening, as is normal, all was mostly quiet, although there was some banging-around going on in our bedroom while we were watching "The Sixth Sense" (Netflix!) in the den. Then, when we went to bed there was the usual growling and thumping-about downstairs, to the extent that I was about to go down and bash the heads of both feline protagonists.........when silence reigned.
I woke to find Bessie by my feet, as has become a more usual occurrence of late. Also routine these days, she keeps me company while I'm getting ready in the bathroom. When will she ever learn that she's supposed to use only the sink under the window and leave me the other one! Come to that, when will she learn that my making the bed is not to be seen as an occasion for her to play thereon? She sees the billowing of the sheets as an opportunity for her to dive-bomb.
When I was a child in London, a kid that here would be called a "vilde chaya" would be called a "lobbus." That's what Bessie is: an absolute minx, albeit an adorable one. You never know where she's going to turn up and she delights in darting out from wherever she's been hiding, to grab your leg or ankle. I have some scars to prove it! Not that she means to do harm, it's just that she certainly has sharp teeth and claws.
Daddy has been reduced to eating his breakfast while barricaded by cereal boxes, so that Bessie will not poke her nose right inside the bowl. I hold my hand over my yogurt and try to avoid the face that is poking right into mine. She knows that I'll let her lick out the dregs and I don't eat fast enough to her way of thinking. Daddy scoffs at the idea that I'm a real disciplinarian.
Bessie loves to climb onto Daddy's shoulders, drape herself around his neck and proceed to lick his ear, which Daddy hates! And he can't just shuck her off; he has to go over to the sofa in the den and shake her down. She only tried that once on me, luckily, because she scratched my back when she jumped off.
Making my lunch sandwich is a chore, in that I have to drop her off the counter several times. She's like a yo-yo: up, down, up, down, etc. The other day, she even absconded with the (luckily closed) bag of smoked turkey slices, jumping down off the counter and running away dragging it behind her, with me hot on her tail, literally.
She has a new favorite spot: At the kitchen window to watch me washing the dishes, and even at the sink, trying to get in to lick the water.
I love how she comes running to greet me when I get home in the afternoons. We're really going to miss her, although Cinnamon won't! He doesn't get on with her at all, but I truly believe that all Bessie wants is to play with him. He views her as a Dennis-the-Menace type and his age really shows. She loves to reach up to the sink when he's in the bathroom and bop his tail. Then he'll turn and hiss at her before diving off the sink and back under the bed, where she'll go for him at the bed-skirt (although never actually under it) and they'll have a set-to. Cinnamon has spent all these weeks mostly under the bed and I'm sure he's counting the days until she leaves. He's such a wuss!
I woke to find Bessie by my feet, as has become a more usual occurrence of late. Also routine these days, she keeps me company while I'm getting ready in the bathroom. When will she ever learn that she's supposed to use only the sink under the window and leave me the other one! Come to that, when will she learn that my making the bed is not to be seen as an occasion for her to play thereon? She sees the billowing of the sheets as an opportunity for her to dive-bomb.
When I was a child in London, a kid that here would be called a "vilde chaya" would be called a "lobbus." That's what Bessie is: an absolute minx, albeit an adorable one. You never know where she's going to turn up and she delights in darting out from wherever she's been hiding, to grab your leg or ankle. I have some scars to prove it! Not that she means to do harm, it's just that she certainly has sharp teeth and claws.
Daddy has been reduced to eating his breakfast while barricaded by cereal boxes, so that Bessie will not poke her nose right inside the bowl. I hold my hand over my yogurt and try to avoid the face that is poking right into mine. She knows that I'll let her lick out the dregs and I don't eat fast enough to her way of thinking. Daddy scoffs at the idea that I'm a real disciplinarian.
Bessie loves to climb onto Daddy's shoulders, drape herself around his neck and proceed to lick his ear, which Daddy hates! And he can't just shuck her off; he has to go over to the sofa in the den and shake her down. She only tried that once on me, luckily, because she scratched my back when she jumped off.
Making my lunch sandwich is a chore, in that I have to drop her off the counter several times. She's like a yo-yo: up, down, up, down, etc. The other day, she even absconded with the (luckily closed) bag of smoked turkey slices, jumping down off the counter and running away dragging it behind her, with me hot on her tail, literally.
She has a new favorite spot: At the kitchen window to watch me washing the dishes, and even at the sink, trying to get in to lick the water.
I love how she comes running to greet me when I get home in the afternoons. We're really going to miss her, although Cinnamon won't! He doesn't get on with her at all, but I truly believe that all Bessie wants is to play with him. He views her as a Dennis-the-Menace type and his age really shows. She loves to reach up to the sink when he's in the bathroom and bop his tail. Then he'll turn and hiss at her before diving off the sink and back under the bed, where she'll go for him at the bed-skirt (although never actually under it) and they'll have a set-to. Cinnamon has spent all these weeks mostly under the bed and I'm sure he's counting the days until she leaves. He's such a wuss!
Monday, August 18, 2008
August 18 2008
Forty years ago today, Ros and I arrived on a ship into Haifa port. David picked us and our trunks up and drove us to the ulpan in Givataim, where we lived for the next five months studying Hebrew. The ulpan was situated not that far from where Faybia and David were living at the time, but if we wanted to get in touch with them we had to walk there, because in those days people waited up to four years to get a phone installed, and they didn't have one. We started ulpan at the beginning of that September, with my parents arriving in Israel in December, I seem to remember. Had it not been for our going to Israel, I'd not have subsequently come to the U.S. and the whole of our own family history would have taken a totally different path. So it was worth going through nearly 4 1/2 years in Israel to be here now for nearly 36 years and counting.
August 18, 2008
Bessie has (another) new favorite perch: In the window over the kitchen sink, from where she watches me doing the dishes.
She is fast becoming a bratty cat - albeit an absolutely adorable one! We have been reduced to eating breakfast, especially, with a hand over the cereal bowl. I hope we can remember not to do that in polite company, otherwise we'll get a reputation for being weird. Need I explain that a covered bowl is required in order to not get a cat's nose in it. However, she doesn't take the hint, because I usually get her face right in my face, as if to tell me she thinks we should be on equal shares. She knows that she gets the (minimal) remains of the yogurt container........and I have to admit that I've been reduced to letting her lick out the remains from the bowl itself, after I manage to wrestle the rest of it myself. As Daddy sarcastically said this morning, "It's nice to see that you're such a disciplinarian."
This morning she jumped up on the bed as I was making it, as usual. I can't decide whether it's because she's a slow learner, or she's giving me the virtual finger (or paw, in her case), because she does this on a faily regular basis. I've tried to get across to her that she is only allowed on the bed AFTER I've finished making it, but no success so far. Anyway, Ginger, who was under the bed, happened to pop her head out from under the bedskirt just as Bessie leaned over the edge. Bessie got into a pouncing position, rocked back and forth on her haunches and launched herself down right in front of Ginger's head...then tore off into the guest-room, with Ginger in hot pursuit! From where she faced Ginger as if to say, "Nyah, nyah, nyah!" Then they both lay down, game over.
This weekend we'll be at the Maplestone Inn in New Paltz (look it up, it looks nice). I expressed the thought to Daddy that maybe we should have Michele Wadler come in on Saturday to check they're alright, since we've not left the three of them together for any extended length of time. He assures me they'll be just fine, so we won't be doing that. Still, I wish I could phone home and get Ginger to tell me they're okay!! It's a good thing I'm not the obsessive type.
She is fast becoming a bratty cat - albeit an absolutely adorable one! We have been reduced to eating breakfast, especially, with a hand over the cereal bowl. I hope we can remember not to do that in polite company, otherwise we'll get a reputation for being weird. Need I explain that a covered bowl is required in order to not get a cat's nose in it. However, she doesn't take the hint, because I usually get her face right in my face, as if to tell me she thinks we should be on equal shares. She knows that she gets the (minimal) remains of the yogurt container........and I have to admit that I've been reduced to letting her lick out the remains from the bowl itself, after I manage to wrestle the rest of it myself. As Daddy sarcastically said this morning, "It's nice to see that you're such a disciplinarian."
This morning she jumped up on the bed as I was making it, as usual. I can't decide whether it's because she's a slow learner, or she's giving me the virtual finger (or paw, in her case), because she does this on a faily regular basis. I've tried to get across to her that she is only allowed on the bed AFTER I've finished making it, but no success so far. Anyway, Ginger, who was under the bed, happened to pop her head out from under the bedskirt just as Bessie leaned over the edge. Bessie got into a pouncing position, rocked back and forth on her haunches and launched herself down right in front of Ginger's head...then tore off into the guest-room, with Ginger in hot pursuit! From where she faced Ginger as if to say, "Nyah, nyah, nyah!" Then they both lay down, game over.
This weekend we'll be at the Maplestone Inn in New Paltz (look it up, it looks nice). I expressed the thought to Daddy that maybe we should have Michele Wadler come in on Saturday to check they're alright, since we've not left the three of them together for any extended length of time. He assures me they'll be just fine, so we won't be doing that. Still, I wish I could phone home and get Ginger to tell me they're okay!! It's a good thing I'm not the obsessive type.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
August 14, 2008
As I told you, we clipped Bessie's nails yesterday. She was more or less compliant and I hope it means there'll be less bits of carpeting left around, and less stripping of that wooden tile in the living-room, on which she was wont to sharpen her claws.
She is so into playing! One of her favorite things is to grab an ankle as we pass by, while she's been hiding somewhere, then she runs away. Thankfully, she doesn't sink her claws into said ankle.
When I go into the guest bathroom each morning to give the cats fresh water and food, Bessie jumps up on the sink. It makes for a more difficult try at getting to the cold-water tap and putting fresh water in the bowls, but she couldn't care. Ginger usually goes in at the same time and Bessie loves to hang over the sink and watch her eating below, oftentimes extending a paw as if she might be able to thwap her from above. These days, even when Ginger espies her up there, she's usually able to continue eating with no growling or hissing involved. I think the fact that I'm in there alleviates the stress on Ginger's part. I also make it a point to give each of them a cuddle to show they are both loved equally.
Daddy/Norman added this yesterday:
"Bessie is in the litter box and Ginger is looking in. Bessie finishes and attempts to get out. Ginger growls. A skirmish ensues. Was human intervention required? I gave a shout and Bessie was able to escape. Ginger should be ashamed of herself!"
Some more photos have been taken, which will eventually be added to the blog. We know both of you will be interested to see how things are evolving here. Kinda two- steps-forward, one-step-back thing.
She is so into playing! One of her favorite things is to grab an ankle as we pass by, while she's been hiding somewhere, then she runs away. Thankfully, she doesn't sink her claws into said ankle.
When I go into the guest bathroom each morning to give the cats fresh water and food, Bessie jumps up on the sink. It makes for a more difficult try at getting to the cold-water tap and putting fresh water in the bowls, but she couldn't care. Ginger usually goes in at the same time and Bessie loves to hang over the sink and watch her eating below, oftentimes extending a paw as if she might be able to thwap her from above. These days, even when Ginger espies her up there, she's usually able to continue eating with no growling or hissing involved. I think the fact that I'm in there alleviates the stress on Ginger's part. I also make it a point to give each of them a cuddle to show they are both loved equally.
Daddy/Norman added this yesterday:
"Bessie is in the litter box and Ginger is looking in. Bessie finishes and attempts to get out. Ginger growls. A skirmish ensues. Was human intervention required? I gave a shout and Bessie was able to escape. Ginger should be ashamed of herself!"
Some more photos have been taken, which will eventually be added to the blog. We know both of you will be interested to see how things are evolving here. Kinda two- steps-forward, one-step-back thing.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
August 12, 2008
A tangent: We've had a resident groundhog in the back garden for a couple of years now. I named him Gus. However, this spring I noticed a very young groundhog accompanying Gus, so I renamed Gus: Gussie. I haven't gotten around to naming the offspring.
Yesterday afternoon Bessie and I observed in the garden the meandering and munching of a hitherto unfamiliar and humungous groundhog, whom I have named Horace. I guess he's the fat father.
Yesterday afternoon Bessie and I observed in the garden the meandering and munching of a hitherto unfamiliar and humungous groundhog, whom I have named Horace. I guess he's the fat father.
Monday, August 11, 2008
August 11, 2008
Bessie is made of quicksilver. She will materialize from who-knows-where to be exactly where you don't want her: She will climb into a drawer (small, medium or wide, it won't matter, she'll make herself small enough to get right inside); get into a cupboard, run down to the basement; get into the fridge (a new favorite); climb inside the dishwasher, etc. You can't be quick enough to stop her, either, you simply have to pull her out of wherever she is, or wait for her to come back upstairs. She has no concept of what "no" means, although I'm doing my best to teach her.
She's very quiet, doesn't really meow, except when she wants to get down to the basement because one of us is there, and the basement door is closed (hah!). She will then jump up against the door and try to push it open, meowing all the while.
Yesterday morning Cinnamon was drinking from the tap in our bathroom, with his rump to the door. In comes Bessie, who proceeds to up and bop his rump with her paw, not once, not twice, but three times. For the first two thwaps Cinnamon appeared to not notice. He did, the third time around, when he turned and hissed at her. She backed down. He resumed drinking and she tried to find a way in between the shower door and the side of the vanity to get up to bop him again. Not having the space to do so, she waited until he lay down along the windowsill, then jumped onto the sink. I stood watching, curious to see who would move first. Cinnamon looked at her, she looked at him, he turned his head away and continued relaxing. After a minute or two she made a move to him, he hissed at her, jumped down and ran under the bed again, with her in hot pursuit!
She has become very affectionate, although is not a lap cat. For the first time, this morning she woke me up, intentionally, by jumping on the bed and nuzzling my face. Then she moved down to the bottom of the bed, where she just stretched out. Luckily, Ginger was not on the bed at the same time.
She has a new trick: She likes jumping up onto the screen at the backdoor, where she hangs by her claws. We remove her, of course, because once her claws get into the screen, she can't effectively get herself down. What a mischief!
She's very quiet, doesn't really meow, except when she wants to get down to the basement because one of us is there, and the basement door is closed (hah!). She will then jump up against the door and try to push it open, meowing all the while.
Yesterday morning Cinnamon was drinking from the tap in our bathroom, with his rump to the door. In comes Bessie, who proceeds to up and bop his rump with her paw, not once, not twice, but three times. For the first two thwaps Cinnamon appeared to not notice. He did, the third time around, when he turned and hissed at her. She backed down. He resumed drinking and she tried to find a way in between the shower door and the side of the vanity to get up to bop him again. Not having the space to do so, she waited until he lay down along the windowsill, then jumped onto the sink. I stood watching, curious to see who would move first. Cinnamon looked at her, she looked at him, he turned his head away and continued relaxing. After a minute or two she made a move to him, he hissed at her, jumped down and ran under the bed again, with her in hot pursuit!
She has become very affectionate, although is not a lap cat. For the first time, this morning she woke me up, intentionally, by jumping on the bed and nuzzling my face. Then she moved down to the bottom of the bed, where she just stretched out. Luckily, Ginger was not on the bed at the same time.
She has a new trick: She likes jumping up onto the screen at the backdoor, where she hangs by her claws. We remove her, of course, because once her claws get into the screen, she can't effectively get herself down. What a mischief!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
August 6, 2008
Just the usual stuff going on. This morning Bessie was up on the kitchen table again (she knows our morning rituals) and she had her usual coffee yogurt. When Daddy was reading the paper after having finished his breakfast, she as usual stuck her rump by him and, before he knew it, was busy slurping up the dregs of milk from his cereal bowl.
Oh, by the way, this email just in to me from Daddy: "Walked through the kitchen before I went to minyan and heard a meowing. I looked under the table and the den chair - no cat. Then I opened the basement door. Presto! In a while, she climbed onto the kitchen table (no surprise) then proceeded to climb up me and ensconce herself around my neck. So I got her off, then proceeded to make an aluminum foil ball - I know, you hate that! I threw it, Bessie went charging after it - and so did Ginger!!! Out of nowhere. And so ... they come face to face. Bessie sits. Ginger sits. And then they just sat there. Finally, Bessie moved on. By the way, the foil ball is under some chair but I don't know which."
I hate the aluminum balls because they get hidden all over the place and turn up weeks later, usually having accumulated cat-hair in the interim.
Yesterday evening I made salmon croquettes, among other things, for dinner. Whenever I have done this in the past, Ginger and Cinnamon get a little sampling of salmon on saucers by the sink. Bessie being in the kitchen at the time, I decided to see if she'd like some. She did. And then along comes Ginger. What to do? I gave her some in her own saucer and put it a hand-span away from Bessie, stood back and waited to see what would happen. Each ate their own, although Bessie did try and make for Ginger's portion as well. Which is funny, because usually Ginger would try and eat Cinnamon's portion. They eyed each other but kept eating. When both had finished, and only then, Ginger decided to throw in a growl for good luck. I stamped my foot at her and she ran off.
I think by this time that Ginger's growling is more of a pro forma thing. Even though they both instigate skirmishes, there doesn't seem to be any real malice in it; neither has drawn any blood in the other. There are actually times when they are laying quite happily almost next to each other. Go figure!
Oh, by the way, this email just in to me from Daddy: "Walked through the kitchen before I went to minyan and heard a meowing. I looked under the table and the den chair - no cat. Then I opened the basement door. Presto! In a while, she climbed onto the kitchen table (no surprise) then proceeded to climb up me and ensconce herself around my neck. So I got her off, then proceeded to make an aluminum foil ball - I know, you hate that! I threw it, Bessie went charging after it - and so did Ginger!!! Out of nowhere. And so ... they come face to face. Bessie sits. Ginger sits. And then they just sat there. Finally, Bessie moved on. By the way, the foil ball is under some chair but I don't know which."
I hate the aluminum balls because they get hidden all over the place and turn up weeks later, usually having accumulated cat-hair in the interim.
Yesterday evening I made salmon croquettes, among other things, for dinner. Whenever I have done this in the past, Ginger and Cinnamon get a little sampling of salmon on saucers by the sink. Bessie being in the kitchen at the time, I decided to see if she'd like some. She did. And then along comes Ginger. What to do? I gave her some in her own saucer and put it a hand-span away from Bessie, stood back and waited to see what would happen. Each ate their own, although Bessie did try and make for Ginger's portion as well. Which is funny, because usually Ginger would try and eat Cinnamon's portion. They eyed each other but kept eating. When both had finished, and only then, Ginger decided to throw in a growl for good luck. I stamped my foot at her and she ran off.
I think by this time that Ginger's growling is more of a pro forma thing. Even though they both instigate skirmishes, there doesn't seem to be any real malice in it; neither has drawn any blood in the other. There are actually times when they are laying quite happily almost next to each other. Go figure!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
August 5, 2008
Is there something inherent in cats that they know to sit, plonk! right in the middle of the newspaper while you're eating at the kitchen table? Ginger has always done that and now Bessie has started doing the same thing. This morning she sat right in front of Daddy when he was having breakfast. It's not that she wanted to share the paper with him, it's that she wanted to share his bowl of cereal! So he was reduced to holding the bowl in the air just like I used to, before I got the idea of letting her lick out the dredges of yogurt from the container. Since he doesn't usually eat yogurt at breakfast, I guess he'll have to find another solution.
Ginger spends a lot less time under the bed these days. After more than two weeks of "suffering" Bessie, she must realize that there's nothing to be gained by her hiding any longer. Not that hostilities have completely abated:
Last night I was awakened by the usual growling on her part. I thought it would subside after a minute, so waited, but it didn't, so I got up, expecting to have to go downstairs to break them up. However, they were both in the guest bathroom - Ginger by her foodbowl and Bessie on the sink! In order for me to be able to go back to sleep, I picked Bessie up and put her in the hall, where she proceeded to tear down the stairs. I don't think she would have moved voluntarily. After all, she had the (literally) upper hand, so to speak.
Ginger spends a lot less time under the bed these days. After more than two weeks of "suffering" Bessie, she must realize that there's nothing to be gained by her hiding any longer. Not that hostilities have completely abated:
Last night I was awakened by the usual growling on her part. I thought it would subside after a minute, so waited, but it didn't, so I got up, expecting to have to go downstairs to break them up. However, they were both in the guest bathroom - Ginger by her foodbowl and Bessie on the sink! In order for me to be able to go back to sleep, I picked Bessie up and put her in the hall, where she proceeded to tear down the stairs. I don't think she would have moved voluntarily. After all, she had the (literally) upper hand, so to speak.
Monday, August 4, 2008
August 4, 2008
Bessie and I have a couple of new rituals: For me to be able to eat breakfast without her getting her nose into the bowl, I scrape out all but a smidge of the coffee yogurt from the container and let her lick the rest. I know, great discipline on my part. But she's so cute!
Secondly, we have a new game: She will dive-bomb my legs, usually when I'm in the kitchen, take off at top speed around the house, through the dining-room, living-room and den, then dive under the armchair in the den, where she will wait for me to play with her. She then pokes out her paws (which I have to be careful to avoid, since she still has her claws - even though she doesn't mean to hurt) while we play the "gotcha" game. She veers from side to side, still under the chair, hoping to beat me at it.
Daddy was having breakfast this morning when Bessie walked across part of the paper while he was reading it. He was still able to eat and read the article he was interested in, so wasn't aware for a moment that Bessie had not moved on (most unlike her, since she has the attention span of a flea (a flea with ADD, according to Daniel). On inspection, it turned out that Bessie was busy lapping at Daddy's glass of iced soy chai! She was promptly removed from the table and the glass was removed to the sink.
I keep hoping that the skirmishes between the cats are over, but even though there are times when Bessie and Ginger can lay quietly just inches from each other, there are still many occasions when Ginger is hissing and growling prior to pouncing. Although I have to say that Bessie is a right little instigator! We pretty much leave them to their own devices, and if I do step in at all, I have to admit it's usually to admonish Ginger to cut it out!
The other day I had to go down to the basement for something and of course, who accompanied me...Bessie! Daddy was down there and when he pointed out that I had let her down, I said, "And how would you like me to get down here, through the keyhole?". She will get through anywhere that is even whisker wide, so my trying to stop her going downstairs is pretty much a waste of time. Especially since she basically doesn't listen to "no" anyway.
She now gets on top of the bookcase in the living-room. For a cat who loves high places, this is about as high as she can get.
Secondly, we have a new game: She will dive-bomb my legs, usually when I'm in the kitchen, take off at top speed around the house, through the dining-room, living-room and den, then dive under the armchair in the den, where she will wait for me to play with her. She then pokes out her paws (which I have to be careful to avoid, since she still has her claws - even though she doesn't mean to hurt) while we play the "gotcha" game. She veers from side to side, still under the chair, hoping to beat me at it.
Daddy was having breakfast this morning when Bessie walked across part of the paper while he was reading it. He was still able to eat and read the article he was interested in, so wasn't aware for a moment that Bessie had not moved on (most unlike her, since she has the attention span of a flea (a flea with ADD, according to Daniel). On inspection, it turned out that Bessie was busy lapping at Daddy's glass of iced soy chai! She was promptly removed from the table and the glass was removed to the sink.
I keep hoping that the skirmishes between the cats are over, but even though there are times when Bessie and Ginger can lay quietly just inches from each other, there are still many occasions when Ginger is hissing and growling prior to pouncing. Although I have to say that Bessie is a right little instigator! We pretty much leave them to their own devices, and if I do step in at all, I have to admit it's usually to admonish Ginger to cut it out!
The other day I had to go down to the basement for something and of course, who accompanied me...Bessie! Daddy was down there and when he pointed out that I had let her down, I said, "And how would you like me to get down here, through the keyhole?". She will get through anywhere that is even whisker wide, so my trying to stop her going downstairs is pretty much a waste of time. Especially since she basically doesn't listen to "no" anyway.
She now gets on top of the bookcase in the living-room. For a cat who loves high places, this is about as high as she can get.
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