I have become THAT PERSON.

That's right, the one who does nothing but post stories about her pets.

BUT THIS TIME IT'S WORTH IT, I SWEAR.

My computer room is in the back of my house - the side facing the woods. The window faces west, so as the sun sets, it lights up the entire room. I love to pull up the blinds and let the light in.

My birdfeeder is also hung outside this window.

So all afternoon while I've been doing my literature searches, I've been hearing: *THUMP* *THONK* *THUD* from behind me. Occasionally, I would glance over my shoulder and see Casper sitting by the closet door. I assumed he was doing the Cat Thing, where if there is a door that's closed it is SURELY BECAUSE the closet is FULL OF CANARIES DIPPED IN CATNIP, and why haven't you, the one with opposable thumbs, opened the door for him yet?

Well, just a little while ago I heard Casper attacking the door again, more frantically than ever before, and turned around to fuss at him, becase -- really -- enough is enough, and I'm trying to work here.

And I nearly died, because I had finally turned around at precisely the right moment to realize: He's not trying to get into the closet.

He's pouncing on shadow birdies.