He's spent all day yesterday sitting just outside the back door in the classic, "I want to come in" position. I'd open the door. He'd look at me. I'd wait until the first stiff breeze and then I'd shut the door. It was -11 with windchill here yesterday and I was havng a lot of trouble getting the kitchen warm anyroad.
I repeated this scene at least 15 times. I made sure there was *nothing* in the doorway or kitchen to disturb his path. I stepped out over him to scoot him in from the other side, he ran away.
Buddy, it's COLD OUT. I love you and I want you to be happy but make up your mind, either go away from the front of the door OR COME IN YOU STUPID CAT.
Seriously, the next time I have to fill out something that asks for an occupation I am not going to write my usual "crash test jockey"...I'm going to write "animal doorman".
Fat Uncle Henry is really an idiot. A pet vent.
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