For a while there, we were bringing Eleanor inside every day to clean out her wounded toe in the bathtub. This is her ancestral home, the bathtub where she was raised under heat lamps from a tiny peep.
So after we cleaned her claw, we’d let her walk around the bathroom for a few minutes while it all dried out. At some point she discovered that there are few pleasures in life as satisfying as backing one’s rump up to a heating vent and letting the warm air ruffle one’s feathers. She stood doing this for so long that there was time for me to run up two flights of stairs and get the camera.