the outdoor/indoor cat

All winter I let Blue-the-cat in the house every day when he asks, and he knows which end of the couch is his.  He will nap there for hours on a really cold day, only going outside for a bathroom break; then he's back.  He has to sleep outside in his insulated box made from an ice chest at night.  That sounds cruel, I know; but he makes the best of it.  When it gets down around zero, old Mama Kitty gets in with him, and that keeps both of them warmer.  

He does like his house privileges, though.  When he starts shedding handfuls of hair in March, he loses the right to come in and nap on the couch.  He does not like being in such a situation and lets me know about it.  

If I open the door to let the dog out, guess who runs in furtively and heads for his scratching post?  His royal highness, Lord Blue.  He knows I'll be running after him, so he gives the post about three fast scratches and runs to Gabe's water bowl.  I will never understand why he prefers Gabe's water to his own that's on the back porch, which is plugged in to keep it  from freezing; it's the same water from the same well, but when he gets in the house he will lap up Gabe's water for two or three minutes, drinking for a while, stopping for a bit to look around, then getting a little more of the precious stuff.  Gabe doesn't always like this situation and will go push the cat's head over and drink water with him, obviously agreeing that inside water is best, and shouldn't be wasted on felines. 

However, I did find a way to keep Blue happy outside, and it seems to satisfy him.  It occurred to me that maybe if I'd just let him in and give him time to walk to the various rooms and make sure nothing's changed, that might be all he wants.  Perhaps he's just making sure his domain, the place where he considers himself the mayor, is still in working order.

My plan has worked very well, to my surprise.  Sometimes he will come in through the front door, nose around for a minute or two, then ask to go out at the back door.  Other times he'll check his house and then start to get comfortable, sitting and washing one paw and then another in the middle of the living room.  I give him a little time doing that, and if he won't come to the door when I call him, I simply pick him up in my arms, pet him, and tell him what a wonderful creature he really is.  Then he doesn't mind being carried to the door, where I gently put him down on the porch.  There he's liable to finish his grooming and will sometimes take a nap on the sunny side  of the porch for an hour or so.  

He now knows I will let him in the house, even if just for a few minutes, and it seems he is content.

In the garden this morning.  These two own me.

Old Mama Kitty is showing her age.