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I Locked My Dopey Cat Out in the Hallway Again Last Night

Yes, it happened again.

A little backstory: I live in a little apartment with three kitty overlords. Two of them are quite content to stay within the confines of "home." One, the big dopey Maine Coon lad above (pictured with his fetch ball), has decided that the hallway is something between Elysium and Narnia, the place he most wants to be. At least for fifteen minutes.


He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he's cunning, and he's figured out that when he hears the door squeak at 2 am when I'm going to take out the garbage he can dart between my legs and head off to the right while I'm bearing left, and he'll never be discovered.

This has led to situations like a friendly neighbor quietly tapping on my door at 3 am with an "I think this belongs to you" story. If that doesn't happen, what he apparently does is camp in front of the door and wait several hours until he hears the missus stirring, then starts chirping and trilling wildly to be let in. This has happened maybe three or four times, and it does not stand me in good stead with the missus, so I endure the reasonable lecture about doing a Kitty Check before bed, then glare daggers at him when he's not looking.

Cats: nothing but trouble. It's a good thing he's cute. Anyone else play unwilling host to an escape artist?

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