Speaking of Using the Squirt Gun

I have a large window in the back corner of my living room. There's a waist high bookshelf in front of it, and the top of the bookshelf is covered with potted plants. I moved them all there after discovering that this particular window gets by far the best exposure to sunlight in the house. Back in September, I took cuttings from one plant that has done particularly well and placed them in a cup of water to root.

Last night I glanced up from balancing my checkbook to see Jenna sitting in the window. This is "her" window, and it's the only place in the house that Ash considers off-limits when he's "playing" (read: "Making even crazier than she already is/ torturing") with her. The windowsill is very deep, and all summer long I left that window open. Only the strongest windstorm could drive rain in through the window, so I didn't worry about things getting wet and ruined. And the combination of the deep windowsill and the coverage offered by the veritable mini-jungle of house plants seemed to appeal to the tiger in my little house cat. She spent most of the summer peering out from behind the green leaves. I'd guess that she'll find the window less attractive as it gets cold.

This time, though, she wasn't just getting in touch with her inner tiger. Instead, her face was shoved into the cup of clippings and she was slurping down the water in the cup. I clapped my hands and made a loud hissing noise, and she jumped so hard she smacked into the window. Then she sat back on her haunches, looking around for an escape route, and becoming more and more freaked out as she realized that the only way out of the windowsill was toward me. Finally, she gathered her courage and jumped down, claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor in her attempt to make a 180 and get as far away as possible as quickly as possible, while I stood there and laughed myself sick. Stupid cat.