Not the smartest cat in the bag

Not the smartest cat in the bag

Last year, we got a sliding glass pet door for our balcony, so we could keep the cold out more efficiently.  And not surprisingly, Trumpet hated it.  But eventually, after many months of duct-taping the flap open, he finally learned.

However, winter was a while ago.  And we took to leaving the balcony door open all summer, since it was so dang hot here… and the kitty forgot how to use the door.  Yep, plain forgot.  We’ve had to go through the same ritual of holding the flap open while calling him or enticing him with some kind of kitty treat.

He did, however, seem to pick it up quicker this time.  And there have been no, uh, accidents relating to said kitty door (which provides access to his litter box) being difficult to navigate while we’re away at work.  I think he just likes to whine when we’re home, because he knows we’ll comfort/cajole him through the difficult physical challenge of squeezing his fat ass through an opening made for a chihuahua.

Suck it up, kitty.  I have to sit my oversized ass on a tiny bus seat every morning and afternoon on my commute, and I have to stay that way for forty-five mintues.  You can handle a three-second discomfort every time you have to pee or stuff your face some more.  You smug, tubby bastard.

Love, Mommy

 

P.S.  Mommy is just kidding.  She really, really loves you.  She just thinks it’s funny that you forgot how to access your two favorite activities, pooping and eating.  You’ll get back on that horse in no time, kitty.  Don’t worry.