I’m starting to think that maybe we should be calling her HIllary instead. You know — Sir Edmund Hillary?
She’s shown quite the penchant for high-risk adventure. There was the time (witnessed by the kids, but not Kellie or me) that she was supposedly hanging from the stair landing on the second floor, by her front paws — like a rock climber. (We think she lost her balance while walking on the outside of the banister.) She was able to get herself back up, apparently. There was no crash.
But she has also enjoyed herself, climbing inside our Christmas tree. Until this morning, she didn’t go more than halfway up (at least, while we’re around). But this morning, she started scaling to the heights of the tree, as you can see in the photos. Not sure what she is after - she doesn’t knock down the ornaments (though occasionally one may fall off from the shaking). But getting that high up, the ornaments were removed quickly. Don’t want them to come with a tree falling over.
She is a frisky little kitten, without much fear. Hopefully, she’ll mellow out as she gets older, like most cats do. She certainly is one-of-a-kind.
