I'm not going to name any names, but *someone* is now too well fed to wriggle over the mass-market paperbacks and explore behind the bookcase.
She honestly struggled for several minutes, all the while casting reproachful looks at my laughing face. Eventually I had to go and unwedge her. Her face said, "If you didn't have so many BOOKS this wouldn't be a problem." "Wow," I replied, "You really are D's cat."
Yes, that was my imaginary argument with my cat. And D.