Shows how much I've been sitting around the table in the center of the house. Tom was resting in his usual chair and heard cat noises at the cellar door. He called me to investigate, I opened the door and immediately walked back around the corner (figuring she's too shy of the Giants to come out even though she hasn't eaten anything since the day before Tom's surgery). Little pale head and big eyes peeped around the door. I put food in the kitchen place, but she wouldn't come for it until I left the vicinity.
She and her sister Banjo were born feral and come from a long line of ferals. They've been living very cushy under our roof, being fed, given treats, etcet etcet -- and they refuse to be touched; we're the giants. They need nobody -- cat or human -- except each other (although Banjo is very fond of Mortimer). Sigh.