At our old house, it seemed as though there was always a doggie in the window, on the look out for squirrels, people, and men in brown trucks. Misty loved that window. After she died, we had lots of repair work to do on the window frame. She would put both front paws on the window and scratch, scratch, scratch whenever the UPS guy came. He once told me that he was afraid she would come through the window some day.