Cirque du Sylvia

I’ve had my cat Sylvia for a little over a year, and she’s just a dream. She’s a short hair ginger tabby who gives zero fucks. My partner Deejay swings her around the living room and squishes her constantly, and she just sits there with a blank look on her face; I can’t even tell if it bothers her or not. (That doesn’t mean I don’t constantly protest when Deejay squeezes her face til it looks like it’s gonna pop.) Sylvia is my baby. She’s gentle and wonderful, even if she does scream rather irritatingly when she wants food, and she’s been great company through my health problems this year.

All this is just to introduce you to her so that I can tell you about her latest antics. This has happened twice, and I don’t know if I’ll ever figure out how she’s doing it…

I have a small walk-in closet in my apartment with shelves on two sides. The shelving on the left is very high up (I’m 5’11” and sometimes struggle to reach things up there). I also keep my dresser in the closet, covered in bottles of hair and face products, a mirror, etc.

Last night, Deejay walked into the closet and saw Sylvia’s little head poking out from the shelf. No products on my dresser had been touched, no sign of a scramble anywhere…I don’t know how she does it.

I think the only question left is: can my cat fly?

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