Nov 16 2009
Flapdoodle
Audrey on the porch
It soon became apparent that my in-house doorman* gig had to end.
The door in question is this one, which separates the (somewhat heated) living quarters from the (completely unheated) studio. The studio was where Rose created her pottery – her kilns are still there – and now is home to The Boxes, both litter and otherwise, and the cats’ dishes.
Rose must have been altogether more stoic than Suzy, considering the outdoor shower and outhouse (only recently replaced with the current, indoor bathroom) and the arctic weather in the studio. The studio has cement floors and big sliding glass doors and no heat, so it’s the next best thing to actually being outside. Throw in some grass and you’re practically camping.
Whenever the cats wanted to eat, drink, visit the salle de bains, or just explore, I had to open the door, letting Siberian winds sweep into the nearly warm living area. This is what is known of as a “setback”. When they were ready to come back into the warmth, they’d claw the door to alert me, and I’d open it yet again. When you consider three cats and the multiple reasons for going in and out of the door, you have several very good reasons to buy a cat flap.
Which is what I did. I brought it home and was surprised that Rob installed it immediately, while Megan and I were making dinner. I thought he’d save it for a rainy day, or maybe tomorrow, but he seems to feel it’s good to get things done as they arise. Probably because he knows that tomorrow, or on the rainy day, I’ll have another project/silly question/unreasonable request.
I was happy, but the cats…not so much. They seemed to find it pretty undignified. I shoved them through it a few times, and then they saw how it was. Needless to say, Adventurous Audrey was the first one to go through and come back unassisted.
I have learned a lot about Audrey since we’ve moved. I always thought she was the sweet, quiet little sister, following June around, but here she’s struck off on her own exploring, is often the last one in at night, and calmly sits beside Megan’s pit bull and Lu’s Rottweiler, completely unconcerned.
*I refuse to say “doorperson”. If “chairman” and “doorman” are the accepted words, use them, instead of coming up with some clumsy sexless form. Another of my (many) pet peeves is people who refuse to use the feminine form, such as actress, calling Marilyn Monroe an actor. What’s wrong with being a girl?