I’m so sad. Zorro, my beloved baby kitten, now almost 5 months old, wants to be an outdoor kitty. I wanted him to be an indoor-only kitty. We have been in a battle over this for some time. I relented a few weeks ago when he almost drove me nuts (well, more so than usual) with his howling demands to go out.
The other day I needed to go outside and tried to throw one of his toys in the opposite direction to distract him from the door. Initially, he was fooled but quickly realized he was being duped and flew between my legs as I was half in and half out the door. He’s faster than a speeding bullet, honest.
That evening, I was at Poppie’s to cook dinner for us and needed an ingredient from my house. I thought Zorro was playing with Big Foot and walked to the back door. Zoom, he was out the door and 50 feet from the house, beyond the circular daylily bed into the dark before I could get the door shut. The light from the house doesn’t shine that far and I wasn’t about to go after him. The jaunty bounce of his rear indicated he thought that having Momma chase him was a lark and a half. I got so mad, I stomped back to the house and left him out there. He finally came back up to Poppie’s French doors and Poppie got up to let him in. He kept trying to come over to kiss and make-up but I was having none of it. Finally, he had to crawl up in Poppie’s lap (something he never does) for some attention. It was 10 p.m. before I gave up my pout. I was justified, you know. Nobody wants to think about being bested by a three pound cat. I believe he has entered the Terrible Two’s of Kittenhood.
On the other hand, he is the best snuggle buddy. This morning, before getting out of bed, I was checking emails on my hand-me-down laptop. Zorro climbed up on my left shoulder and we sat cheek-to-cheek reading email. Isn’t that just the sweetest?