This morning, the cat was lolling by the baby-gate at the top of the stairs, presenting Vivi with an irresistible target for her clumsy but sweet affections. A few kisses on the back, some fairly gentle strokes along the head, and one or two shrieks of delight later, Sabine made her grumpy sounds and moved about twelve inches away.
Vivi took this in stride, walking down the hall to the bookshelf and retrieving a weird Swedish book that she loves. I thought she was going to sit down and leaf through it. Instead she walked back to Sabine, bent down, and laid the book down in front of her, face up and spine to the right. Then Vivi stood up and waited, clearly expecting the cat to reach out and start reading.