Front paws on the window imagining how nice it would be to have the chipmunk on the patio over for breakfast. Or lunch. Or Supper. Obviously, she has the gift of hospitality.
A revitalized interest on where the man servant goes when he slips out the backfront door. Could it have something to do with her gift of hospitality?
Training Mom to share tidbits from her meals. "She's just curious about what I'm eating." What can you do to train 98 year old "children."?
Being sure that the Hospice people understand that now that she is the new queen of the ranch they must pay attention to her as part of their visit.
Making a horrible mess of the dirt in the ceramic pots that have been brought in for the winter. And looking askance that such a fun activity could possibly illicit a "No! Dumb Animal!" Perhaps it's the "dumb" that has her shocked. Perhaps just the "No!" Perhaps both.
Racing up and down the stairs for no apparent reason--unless she's trying to prove that she's faster than the speed of the light coming on. How can such a tiny creature sound like a herd of elephants racing across the Serengeti?
Getting pennies out of the jar upstairs, dropping them down the stairs, knocking them under the rug at the landing, and making as much noise as is catly possible. Failing to have the common cents to realize that such behavior will not go over well at three AM.
Demonstrating the ability to instantly change from a dead-to-the- world sleeping cat cuddled in one's lap to a fighting ninja cat at any moment.
Continuing to issue her opinions on the state of everything, everywhere, all the time.
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