This is Dorothy, who I have been feeding. Not exactly a floozy, in fact not even the slightest hint of affection until my last day of responsibility, when my finger was momentarily sniffed, then customarily rejected.
She can sometimes be found in the fireplace behind the easy chair, waiting for everyone to clear off, so she can get back on the chair.
She crouches on her belly till the last moment, then leaps past me and out of the door, which I have just left open to indicate my non-predatory status. I wonder what I can learn from this manner of blanket suspicion. It certainly has me hooked, and determined to prove my innocence.