And there she is, gone. In half a second she will be waiting patiently to trip whoever comes in the door because they forget that she is underfoot. It's her job and she takes it seriously. She's a good kitty, that way.
Oomph. trip. Job well done, Pika.
Then she looks at you with those scary electric eyes and says, "Meow," which translates to, "It's not my fault you fell. I just wanted to welcome you home. Can you pet me now? And give me fresh food, huh, huh, huh? I know there's food in the cat dish but it's 20 minutes old and it's nasty and stale so can I have fresh food now? Pleease."
Certainly. And I will give you fresh food and fresh water and clean the litter box and scratch you behind the ears and scratch your back and you still won't sit on my lap and purr.