My Winnie house

Preface to this story: My Grandma Winnie currently has my cat Sassy living with her. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement when we were moving, but the two got along so well that it's become permanent. Sylvie loves going to visit Sassy, she's fascinated by her! But we usually see Winnie at family gatherings in NJ, so it's not that often that we're actually in Staten Island at her house. Our visits with Sassy are few and far between.

So earlier today Sylvie was playing with her stuffed kitty, when she started obsessively asking me for her cat.
"I have a kitty cat Mommy! Where is she?"
I was confused and asked her "are you sure you have a kitty cat, Sylvie?"

She then started frantically running around the house, looking behind furniture, looking through windows, under tables, behind curtains.
"Mommy! Where is my kitty! I need her! I need to find her!"

I asked her if she was looking for a kitty toy, to which she grouchily responded in the negative, and I then told her that I didn't know what she was talking about, because we didn't have a kitty in our house.
"Yes! Yes I have a kitty in my house! Where is she?"
(she pauses for a second and I can see the little lightbult appear above her head)
"I have a kitty at my Winnie House!"

Yes, of course you do, you have a kitty at your Winnie House! Now why didn't I think of that?