Doors. DOORS. Darn those darned doors. You know the ones... the doors!
Nope, I'm not talking about that musical group. Not talking about them at all. Sometimes, a door is simply a door. MOUSES!
Yup, Seville the Cat here, and I'm having some trouble with doors.
You ever notice how whatever side of the door you're on, it's always the wrong side of the door to be? This is particularly disconcerting for us cats on account of many of us being dependent upon peeps when it comes to the opening of said doors. In other words, when you find yourself on the wrong side of a door, you need a peep to come help you out by opening it. MOUSES!
I encountered just such a dilemma only this morning. That's right, my friends, I was stymied by a door. MOUSES!
Moments earlier, I had gone into the dining room slash living room in search of a sunpuddle. There were sunpuddles galore in the dining room to be found. Great big sunny sunpuddles filled with gloriously bright sunshine. But no sooner had I staked out the best puddle when some ol' peep had to come along and close the door between the dining room and kitchen.
Now normally, I wouldn't have been overly concerned with this event as the sunpuddle I was bathing in was an amazing sunpuddle to be sure but as I was starting my morning convolutions, I happened to hear the sound of a tin being opened in the kitchen. Knowing full well that tins contain things I enjoy eating, I found myself wanting to leave said sunpuddle and check out the kitchen. Of course, that was when I discovered that the door leading to the kitchen had been closed. MOUSES!
To be perfectly honest, it wasn't entirely closed. It was, however, closed enough so that even though I could see into the kitchen, I couldn't quite get into the room without squeezing through the narrow space between the edge of the sliding pocket door and the.. the uh... pocket. MOUSES!
So I sat there. I sat there and sat there and SAT THERE. Finally after I don't know how many hours - okay, it was probably more like ten minutes but felt like hours, to be sure - Peep #1 noticed my face staring forlornly at her through the opening.
Of course, I could have gone over to the other living room door which was standing wide open but I didn't think of that at the time. Besides, that would have entailed my walking all the way through the living room and passing the front door and traipsing all around the stairs leading to the basement and hiking across the kitchen floor. Pretty roundabout way of doing things if you ask me, especially as Peep #1 was just standing in the kitchen doing nothing important at the time rather than busying herself, attending to my every want and need. MOUSES!
So like I was saying, FINALLY Peep #1 noticed me sitting there and slid open the door so that I could enter the kitchen. Luckily for me, before I actually ventured across the threshold, I realized that the tin of food sitting on the counter was not one of my favourites so I decided to go back to my sunpuddle and not bother myself with entering the kitchen after all.
But my point to be made is this; give a cat a closed door and you can bet your whiskers that cat will be on the wrong side of it. MOUSES!
You know, more than once I've heard the peeps discussing the idea that if they were ever to win the lottery, the first thing they should do is employ a full-time doorman for us cats. I say, BRING IT ON.
To tell you the truth however, I don't think my peeps need to employ a full-time doorman. We already have them. How many doormen do they think we cats need?
Of course, they could benefit from some classes as to how to improve their own doormanship skills. Apparently, opening doors doesn't come as naturally to peeps as one might think. Did I mention how I had to wait a whole ten minutes before Peep #1 opened that door for me this morning? MOUSES!
And it's not just the big doors they have issues with, either.
A couple of days ago, my sister Mason got locked in the broom closet. Well it's not so much a closet as a tall, narrow cupboard but it is where the peeps keep the broom along with a few other things. Doesn't really matter what it's called. What matters is that Mason got locked in it.
There she was, having a nice little nap in that ol' closeted cupboard when some stupid peep closed the door on her. Could you believe it? Mason doesn't know which peep did the dirty deed on account of her being asleep at the time but she's pretty sure it was, in fact, a peep and not one of us cats. She's probably right about that because truth be told, we cats are far more interested in the opening of doors than the closing of them.
So poor little Mason woke up to find herself locked away in a tiny dark cubby she had to apparently share with a broom. MOUSES!
Luckily for Mason, that particular door doesn't stay closed all that well due to the shoddy workmanship of whoever happened to make it so she was able to burst through the door by flinging her shoulder against it. The door opened with a bang and the peeps were quite surprised to see Mason saunter out of said closet. Mason, ever one to think quickly on her paws, gave both peeps a dirty look. Like I said earlier, she didn't know which peep had closed the door on her but she was pretty darned sure it had been one of them.
About an hour later, Mason returned to find said cupboard door closed and was not able to get back inside. MOUSES!
Bottom line is, peeps don't seem to understand that if they close a door, any door at all, odds are, there is going to be a cat on the wrong side of said door and no matter how many times you try to explain it to them, they just can't comprehend it. It's like a mental block or something they seem to have.
Personally, I'm beginning to give up on the idea of my peeps ever really understanding the science of opening doors for cats and am therefore investigating this creature known as the dormouse. I'm thinking this might be a mouse capable of opening and closing doors for us cats when we need 'em to be opened and closed. Not quite sure what makes 'em different from regular mice but maybe they come with a uniform or something. You know, a uniform to differentiate themselves from mice who don't open and close doors. And I'm also thinking that even if these dormice have to struggle with the opening of big heavy doors, they'll still be better at the job than my peeps. I mean, did I mention how I had to wait A WHOLE TEN MINUTES this morning before Peep #1 opened the kitchen door for me? Did I mention that before? Ten minutes of my life, lost, never to be found again. MOUSES!
And if this whole dormouse thing works out, I'm going to look into the possibility of finding myself a tinmouse. If a dormouse opens doors, surely a tinmouse would open tins. Someone to open tins of my favourite food at my every whim. I don't know about you but I could sure do with a mouse like that. MOUSES!