As I have mentioned previously, I am an indoor cat. I have become accustomed to the comforts of my human’s furniture, most particularly her sofa and any and all beds in the house. I am venturing out more of late. It came about on the insistence of my human.
The Great Outdoors still intimidates me, unless it is nighttime. I feel safer under the cover of darkness. This seems to irritate my human and I don’t understand why. She is the one encouraging me to go outside.
We have a dance that must be performed before I depart. It goes something like this:
If it is daylight, I do a bit of encouragement by climbing upon her lap and giving an ever so subtle “meow.” Noticing that my food bowl and water fountain are well stocked (yes, I have my own fountain), she determines that I must want to explore the outdoors. The human opens the door. I creep close and sniff the threshold. I gaze up at my human before retreating to rub against something, anything. She coaxes and I return to rub her leg. I perform another lap or two of this sort before one of two things happens. Either she gets bored and closes the door, or she scoots me out with her foot. On these occasions, I scurry to a thick flower bed and hide amongst the greenery until she calls me back.
Darkness is another matter.
As the daylight wanes, I become intrigued with the activity outside. Bugs begin fluttering near lights and my curiosity overcomes me. Once again, I make my way to my human’s lap often via her shoulder and chest as I have been gazing from my perch on the back of the sofa. I offer another subtle “meow.” She scolds me and warns that it is “too late” to go outside. I try again, this time a little closer to her face. More scolding. When repeated quiet requests don’t get her attention, I offer a gentle head butt to her forehead. After several of these nudges and a few more verbal pleas, she will often relent. I keep my door dance short for I do, indeed, desire to go outside.
I delight in the safety of the dark! I think she often forgets I am gone as these outings tend to be longer than my daylight forays.
Recently, she called and called for me to return. I was busy, so I ignored her. There was a note of anxiety in her voice, but I had my own plans. Eventually, she came seeking me with a light in her hand. Still, I remained on my post. When the light lifted to shine directly in my eyes, I refused to blink, giving her my best big-eyed stare. She began to scold and coax while I continued to stare.
Her voice softened and she began to back away. Perhaps she thought I was a creature of another sort, maybe a raccoon. Only then did I leap to the ground and … rub her leg. She scooped me up and carried me, lovingly scolding me, back into the house where I leapt to the floor and raced her up the stairs to bed.
For some reason, she still thinks she is Boss. Boy, do I have her fooled!
If you would like to contact Marge or pitch an opportunity to guest blog on her site, click the button below.
Comments