The Cat Came Back (And Now I Want To Hate Him)

The cat.

Grrrrr.

The cat is an indoor cat.

Occasionally I put the leash (that he came with) on him and let him snoop around my stoop. I'm nice that way. Part of the reason he is an indoor cat is that he doesn't have front claws and there are some large territorial tom cats in my neighbourhood. I fear he would get the snot beat out of him.

This morning while trying to leave the apartment with my laundry (which is a feat you'll understand if you've ever been to my place), the cat decided he too should exit. I hoped he would just stay on the stoop and I could put my laundry down, scoop him up and toss him inside.

Nay, nay.

Of course he wouldn't make things easy. He quickly made his way down the first flight of stairs, then onto the roof, then on to the roof of the garage.

There he is, perched, happy, delighted and filling me with angst.

I got some food to try and lure him back up the stairs.

As you can see, his level of care was not altered. And so he decided to keep exploring. He explored by walking on narrow things above the ground, leaving me to envision the conversation between me and his parents and just how he broke his hip.

Awesome. In his high wire exploring he found a friend. How neat.

Eventually he got down, explored one neighbour's yard, went under another neighbour's deck, ran around in the alley, got caught by me, fought me, won, ran into the neighbour's yard again, started eating the neighbour's plants and then got caught by me again.

He was very happy that I caught him. So happy in fact that he decided to give a little love nibble, right through my glove.

How delightful.

So now he is in my apartment (hopefully thinking about what he did) and I am out doing laundry (thinking about what he did). Somebody is going to lose their leashed stoop snooping privileges for a while.