Not the sharpest tool in the shed.

I have lived in my apartment for two years. Ever since I moved in, I've been wondering about the sliding door to the kitchen. The kitchen itself has one of those counter-divider-dealies that opens into the dining/living room area, so it's not like closing the sliding door would give anyone privacy in their culinary endeavors. And believe you me, it doesn't help in shielding the smoke detector from an endeavor gone horribly wrong.

Of late, I have discovered a heavenly use for that door. When I go into the kitchen, and I'm planning to be in there for more than thirty seconds, and Luna has not yet had her squishy food for the day, I CLOSE THE DOOR. Instead of following me about and entangling herself with my feet while meowing like a banshee, she sits outside the closed door with her back to it - clearly pissed, but quiet as a mouse.

She often gets up onto the counter-divider-dealie so she must know, in some area of her wee little brain, that she could access the kitchen that way when the door is closed.

Perhaps she opts for silent protest of my clearly inhumane act of shutting the door. Or - and this is the more likely scenario - she's really just not that bright.