Sometimes Skobath sits in the window and makes these soft chattering noises like I’ve heard other cats do for birds.
Like, little come hither noises to attract them closer to the window.
Sometimes I see her press one small perfect paw to the window, leaving imprints of her little jelly-bean toes on the glass.
Sometimes she aggressively licks the glass and and bops her forehead against her own reflection.
Sometimes she becomes startled by the activity and falls of the window ledge.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that she is just a cat.
She’s not some kind of guide sent by Barbie to show me secrets of the town.
She’s just a cat.
She’s my cat and I am her human.