Dixie has a whole floor full of cat toys - rattly balls, crackly cat tunnel, catnip mouse, chirpy bird, and the list goes on - and she plays with all of them throughout her day. But, the best toys are the found toys. She has discovered the wastebasket under my desk. I will hear her rattling around under there and she will be deep into the basket, looking for kitty treasures. This morning she had a great time killing an envelope she found lurking in its depths.
Her newest trick is reminiscent of Tinker, a cat of some renown in our family's past. She goes into the kitchen or the utility room and yowls for someone to come find her. Tinker would pull this same stunt while hiding in the bathtub. When the unwary victim comes into range, out springs Miss Dixie to wrap around your ankle like the Tasmanian Devil of the old cartoons.
While there is no doubt she knows her name, she is beginning to exercise her cat prerogative to ignore your call if it suits her. But I have her number. All I have to do is open the refrigerator door and she will come running from the farthest reaches of the house to help you decide what you should prepare for the upcoming meal.
She has moved into her own spot on the bed at night, right between the dogs, and is pretty much adjusted to our sleeping routine, although she did wake me up Saturday morning by pouncing on my nose. But when she curls up next to me with that wild, happy purr, I can overlook a little nose pouncing.
I'm really not sure how we got along before she joined us.