The cat has a real talent for making digging motions against surfaces with what appears to be disregard for actually attempting progress. Over and over, in the middle of the night, first thing in the morning, there's a ffftt, fffftt, fffft of her paws paddling against a rug, the seat of my green chair, the linoleum. I always ask I wonder what she's digging for. A couple of times you've said Maybe she just likes it. Of course, I'm always thinking of results, some distant, ever-anticipated end; never about the process.