Diligent contemplations

One never knows just what the cat is contemplating

Aoife responds to me leaving the apartment with irritation; often, when I get back, she'll be lurking under the coat rack to make a dash for the corridor.  (Given the position of the coat rack, the instant the door is open a cat-width, a cat under the coat rack can exploit the gap.)

Once there, there's a particular section where the texture of the concrete is ideal, or something, and there's a lot of rolling.  It might be a territorial assertion, it might be a claim that I'm not really necessary, it's not at all obvious from my limited simian perspective just how I ought to understand this.

I do know that there are sometimes complaining noises, and they won't stop until I offer to pet her nose.