Effie likes being on top of things. . .
She expects her self-determination to establish what she may and may not do. . .
And life goes contentedly on.
Effie sat by the window, then by the door, miffed that hints that she wanted to go outside were ignored. It was hard on me, too; but Effieland has dirt in which she delights to roll, and dirt severely compromises healing of surgical incisions. Nine more days, Luvmuffin. . .
Her yowling behavior has subsided almost completely. She slept on our bed last night.
This morning, after her requests to go out were ignored, quick and agile as ever, she leaped onto the counter and then to the cabinet above it before we could stop her. Our aftercare orders included no jumping or running. I checked her incision when she came down from her nap more than two hours later: thankfully, all is intact. I believe Effie apprehends her limits better than most people.