In her later years, she was not particularly interested in puppy play, though she would often fetch a toy politely, a time or two, to amuse her mother or her Aunt Pat. What she liked best of all was to leap into a lap, though she also liked to tear down the hall from the elevator, in case the slowpoke with the leash had forgotten which door to go to. Of course outs were always well-received, especially if they included a stop by the local liquor store--no, she wasn't a tippler, but the proprietor always had a cookie for her, and she could pull ten times her weight into the store from half a block away. She always knew the difference between a walk and a mere business trip, though she once conned a naive visiting uncle into giving her a forty-minute walk at midnight. With Mom or other knowing ones, she would dash to the curb just as desired, and everyone would be back on the seventeenth floor, snuggled into their respective beds, or perhaps with Caty snugly and smugly joining Mommy in her bed, with all deliberate speed.
A city dog, Caty also loved her opportunities to play in the country, especially with her bigger friends (clockwise from Caty, Pippa and Little Bit).
Of course she kindly looked back to see if two-legged friends were keeping up. That day, they weren't far behind, even though one kept looking into this little black thing.
