Our cat, Jazz, lives in our attached woodshed, and slips in mornings as D carries in an armload of wood to stoke the stove. Jazz usually patrols the house, which includes checking sink and counters, tabletops, perimeters, unmade beds and upstairs. He loves slipping through the quilts that portion off the upstairs because he knows it's harder for us to find him- too many good hiding places, under beds, etc. After he's ponced on us unexpectedly a few too many times and satisfies his morning thirst and hunger from his feeding bowls by the wood stove, he starts phase two of his morning rounds, monitoring the bird feeders from the back of the couch. Then he'll spend what seems like hours, frozen, on guard, watching by a seam in our woodwork, for cellar mice, nimbly scaling the interior walls on their daily rounds.