Tree Kitty approached. Hesitated. Approached. Backed away.
Peed. Looked at me, clearly pained by her social faux pas. Peed some more. Retired to the paving stones, sat down, uncertain as to how to proceed.
I set the granola bar on the back step and closed the door. She bounded over, scooped up the treat, and - very carefully avoiding the trail of pee - made for the woods.
Mildly amusing anecdote aside, it occurs to me: flailing. Social anxiety. Inappropriate pee. Desire for treats overcoming all of these things. Yup; pretty sure I am a tree kitty.
*on the slight chance you don't already know, tree kitty = squirrel
