If I talk to Ella while she's "checking for Martians," she will give me a dirty look. "Shut up. I don't want to listen to you. I want to listen for the night sounds."
Oh, no! You don't suppose she is an alien and is waiting for them to come back and get her???????????????????
Oh, yes, I think that you are right there, @Shirley Martin ! Here is Ella when she was in Men in Black with the little solar system around her neck.
It seems clear from this video that Ella is not quite the predator she'd like to think she is (although several mice, a chipmunk, and a couple of birds might argue with that), at least not where squirrels are concerned. She seems to know the squirrel is around somewhere but doesn't realize it's beneath her, and the squirrel doesn't seem to know that Ella is there until they come face to face, and then it's not particularly concerned. Although it would like to scare Ella away from the food bowl. The squirrel makes me itch, though.
I bought this five-tier cat condo well over a year ago, yet this is the first time that I have seen Ella lying in it. Lydia would occupy the lower floor once in a while and Cutie stayed there for an hour or so after I put her in it once, but, although I bought mats for each floor, and each level has two doors that they can look out of, it hasn't been a big hit.
I have a bandage on my head today. Ella noticed after I had picked her up, and she has decided that she needs to take that off of there. She tried to get to it with her paws a few times before I put her back down on the floor. An hour later, she was up on the desk looking up at my head. She knows that something isn't right and that it shouldn't be there. I hope she doesn't try to remove it while I'm sleeping tonight.
When I give one cat a treat, I give one to the other as well. Ella asked for a treat, so I gave her some. I put some up by Cutie, who was inhabiting the cat bed that had been Ella's favorite until Cutie decided to take it from her. Cutie didn't want hers. Hours later, Ella asks for another treat. Seeing the Cutie's treats were still there, I showed them to Ella so that they wouldn't go to waste. That ended up in a fight when Cutie decided to take affront over Ella trying to eat the treats that she didn't want anyhow. Now, the treats are still sitting there uneaten, and Cutie has gone back to sleep.
Ella wanted to go out one last time before dusk. I open the back door to let her out and a squirrel is sitting on the banister. The two of them go trotting off across the yard together. Squirrel: "Ella, can you get out again today?" Ella: "I don't know. Wait here. I'll ask."
Cutie (27 y/o) doesn't usually stay out very long but she does like to go out now and then when the weather is nice, and she usually hangs out with Ella. I have watched them outdoors and often, after a few minutes, Ella will head toward the door to go back in, and Cutie will follow. When I open the door to let them in, Ella will want to go right back out or, if Cutie goes in first, she might not even come in. I don't know if she senses that Cutie wants to go in or if its because she's trying to get rid of the old, deaf girl who is cramping her style.
Ella's outdoor excursions have been so easy this year. As far as I am aware, she had killed a chipmunk, which I wish she wouldn't have, and maybe a half-dozen mice, which is not counting the grasshoppers and other insects. She's five now, so maybe the enthusiasm of youth is calming down somewhat. More importantly, I don't have to go looking for her. She has never been particularly difficult in that way. When Lydia was alive and young, I have been up all night looking for her on several occasions. Ella has never stayed out after dark. But in the past, even last summer, there were times when I would be walking the tracks calling for her. Although she'd usually come when called, every now and then it became more important for her to stay out a little longer so she'd ignore me, or even hide from me. This year, there have been a few times when I had to call for her and she'd come running home from down the tracks somewhere, or I'd see her jump the fence from the yard of whoever lives on the other side of the tracks, but there hasn't been one time when she refused to come. Sometimes she would slow-walk across the yard, stopping to sniff at things along the way, so that I'd know she'd really rather stay out. More often than not though, all that I have had to do this spring and summer is to open the door, and she'd be there ready to come in. Or maybe I'd have to go out and say, "I wonder where the Ella went," and there she'd be. I think she's not wandering as much as she used to, perhaps because I have been checking on her more often.
"Sometimes she would slow-walk across the yard, stopping to sniff at things along the way, so that I'd know she'd really rather stay out." That's her way of saying, "You can call me but you can't make me!"