If the cat wants to go outside, he goes to the front door and scratches it, then begins to whine. If it is after 9:00, he is not allowed, thus making the whines longer, louder, and higher pitched. He is told to stop, but this direction he chooses to ignore.
After a good half hour of not getting his way, the cat tries a new strategy: gifts. Without a good mouse, roach, or bird around that he could kill and offer, he goes for the next best thing: a used teabag.
We are sitting in the den, having a nice conversation, when the teabag bearing cat saunters in, looks up at Barb, and places the teabag gently on the top of her feet. The cat stares at the teabag, then up at Barb, back to the teabag, then back to Barb. A little whimper says, "Can I go outside NNNNOOOOWWWW???"
Hooper, in the meantime, has discovered that the cat has gotten a hold of something without Hooper's permission, and Hooper is going bananas trying to get to the teabag. Barb, on the other hand, thinks that the cat has laid a dead mouse on her foot and begins to panic, while I sit back and try not to pee in my pants laughing.
Short story long, the cat did not go outside, Hooper sniffed the teabag and was immediately no longer interested, Barb hesitantly picked up the teabag, and I stopped laughing long enough to tell Liz the story, and to be able to write this down.
There is NEVER a dull moment here.
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