Or, potentially, la pesadilla de la terraza.
Okay, she’s not actually the bane of my existence or a literal nightmare, but she likes to believe she is. And she spends most of her time on the porch these days.
I brought home a new chair for it yesterday, and as soon as I started removing the plastic wrapper bits guarding the legs, she zipped over and started doing battle with them. This is part of the reason we were late getting going – when you’re elderly felid is in a feisty mood, it’s necessary to humor her.
Since I’ve been home, she’s gotten more curious and playful. She’s also much more sociable and demanding – we ended the night outside, because she’s been getting really vocal about me joining her there. When I’m in the bedroom, she’ll come back in and yowl from the doorway for a minute, giving me an impatient look. I think that meow traslates as, “You bloody fool, it’s effing hot, what are you doing in there? Get your ass out here!” Then she stalks out, occasionally coming back to repeat the demand. It was warm enough to acquiesce to her request, so I figured why not. We’ll have to do it more often. She likes having me out there.
She also likes to steal my cushion.
She’s definitely a beastie that likes comfort. And yelling at Mom. And occasionally viciously attacking. Her unpredictability is what makes her so much fun.