Another day, another picture of my cat. (Heather Hacking/Contributed) Another day, another picture of my cat. (Heather Hacking/Contributed) As much as I love him, my cat and I have slipped into a phase where we are not in sync.
When it’s cold outside I can easily lure him indoors when I come home from work. He often wants some attention but is easily distracted when I lay down the bowl of wet food. To his credit, he wants some lap time after food, but I often have things to do on my computer or am preparing for my next day.
Somewhere after midnight, he slips out through the cat door and does not resurface until I’m ready to walk out the door for work. If we were on the same wavelength, he would find me again when I’m still in bed, those last 15 minutes when my mind is still dreamy and the down comforter is at maximum toasty. What’s strange is that he can come and go through his cat door but he scratches on the door instead.
Why always 10 minutes before I leave? Does he smell my morning coffee or that spray of perfume? And after mewing for my attention, why does he stand there frozen, as if he’s contemplating whether he has someplace more important to be? He stands. I stand. Soon I give him the ultimatum.
“In or out, cat? Make a decision.” He usually moves sloth-like, inching toward the door frame, one slow paw at a time. Sometimes I am impatient and simply leave and leave him there on the doorstep.
My cat is quite large and in the winter his coat makes him look .
