I have this theory that karma gives you get the kind of cat that you can handle, I know silly me. New to cats, you get a cosy throw kitty… one that gracefully reclines on your lap all day. More experienced with cats, then maybe a few problems get thrown in, such as midnight upchucking of half digested flies… in the middle of your kitchen table.
Hey, if you are a cat person you are now probably nodding your head… if you aren’t a cat person… well lucky you…
I think.
If this theory holds, then I am a incredible cat whisperer, which I highly doubt, because as much as I love cats, I sometimes have no idea what motivates Bootsie.
We have a doggie door in the pantry, it came with the house… good thing they had small dogs.
The first year Bootsie was determined that the doggie/now cat door would lead him straight into the gaping jaws of Daisy, dog next door. Might have been the fact that each time he peeked his furry head out the door she went nutsy. We’ve fixed that, and many kitty treats later, he will use the cat door.
But only as a In door, and he refuses to go Out the In door.
At the other end of the house are some glass French doors opening up onto the back porch, which he apparently considers the Out door.
Especially if we have just sat down in the kitchen to eat. Then he saunters over to the French doors with as much enthusiasm as a cats can muster and stares out the glass, looks back over his shoulder at us, and then through the glass outside.
If you’ve ever had a cat, you will recognize you are being told that you are a fool for not knowing exactly what they want, which in this case is “let me out, you can opener you.”
“But Boo, I’ve just sat down, my feet are sore, my food is getting cold, and I don’t want to let you out the door, use your cat door.”
Silent green eyed stare as only a cat can do.
“Boots! Use your cat door… plllllleeeeasse.”
“Oh alright… ” shuffle, dance, ouch, shuffle… make my way to the French doors, and return to my chair and my now cold dinner.
Only to find that he has circled around the house, entered through the in door, and is now happily ensconced on my chair napping.
Fine…
Sigh.
That wasn’t a cat whisper, I think it was him snickering.