The mystery of the coated wires

During house destruction, and reconstruction, Juliet managed fairly well. In fact, I was impressed with her ability to weather the change so gracefully. About the time that we were dotting Is and crossing Ts, Robert was moving in, and she lost it. The cat who had never before missed the litter box started frequenting a few favored corners in the house and just pooping, not peeing, and walking away. It was puzzling ("what *is* she trying to say?") but easy enough to clean up.

There was one spot we laughed about. Robert has an "upstairs living room" with a stereo and TV cabinet, couch, and books. Near the cabinet, there's a pile of electric cords for lights and his audio visual collection. She loved to poop on top of the cords.

She did it for a while, and then I remembered that she hates Saran wrap with a passion. So I laid some plastic on top of the wires. She got the message and went back to her litter box. That was over a year ago.

Since Christmas, Juliet has pretty much confined herself to my bedroom and bathroom, venturing out just once to get a better spot in the sun. A few mornings ago, when I was sick and Robert was awake, he noticed Juliet venturing out of the room. He followed her down the hall, first into his study. She went right for a pile of extension cords sitting on her favorite, a piece of cardboard. She wiggled her butt, setttled in, and then got up and went into the next room, the upstairs living room. She walked around the stereo cabinet, directly over to the pile of cords, wiggled her butt, settled in, and pooped. She then walked all the way back down the hall, jumped into bed with me, and purred herself to sleep.

So far, the Saran wrap has had its desired effect. But I have to wonder sometimes -- are there really aliens out there, and do they speak directly to my cat in a language I cannot understand?