Then, as if the field of the plausible were catching up to her, she just ... capsized ... for no reason from a standing position. Like a boat struck by a rouge gravity wave. Paws splayed.
She bounces under the table, crawling upside-down: gravity reversed, face a rictus of fascinated greed.
She then jumps at the birds twisting 180 in the air, like an athlete or a very fancy fishing lure, like a male ballet dancer... only to have her face smack the window.
The doves fly away cooing, laughing.