It’s a Cat-flap, Sam; it flaps…

The World's Daftest Cat in Typical Pose

The World’s Daftest Cat in Typical Pose

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam – that’s him above, asleep – has developed a strange habit, which, at 2pm might be amusing. At 2am it loses its entertainment value.

We have a cat flap. It is opened at dead of night, when there are no cars about, so that Sam can wander around his territory and do whatever he does; and I’d rather not know what that might be. The idea is that Sam uses the flap for both egress and ingress, thus allowing Mrs J and I to slumber peacefully, at least until he or madam Rosie (below) think that it’s time we were out of bed and pay us an insistent visit to make their point.

Phil Janes Cat

Possibly the world’s cutest alarm clock

Sam used to understand this, and, not to be too critical, he can still do the getting out bit without any trouble at all. Re-entry? Not so much.

He has taken to punching the cat flap from the outside. I don’t know why. When he does it from the inside it is generally because it is raining in the garden and he is either trying to make it stop or making plain his displeasure at the prevailing climatic conditions. But the weather indoors remains clement, so it’s not that. And he doesn’t punch it just once, but repeatedly, like a boxer with a bag. The flap swings backwards and forwards, making a racket which, at 2 in the morning, is quite sufficient to draw us from the deepest of sleep.

One of us gets up and goes to the cat flap. We pull it open, and Sam looks through the hole. He doesn’t come in. We reach out either to stroke him or, Homer-like, choke him, and he thinks we’re playing. We invite him in. We lure him in with promise of food. He sits there. Then after a suitable period, he turns and wanders off. We go back to bed. He comes back. And so on.

The only thing we can think is that he’s put on weight, and his whiskers – the width of which guide all cats in such matters – are casting doubt on his ability to get his body through the hole. If he keeps doing it I plan to snip off the end of the whiskers. This will make him think he’s thinner, and will result in one of two outcomes. Either he is thin enough to get through the hole, in which case problem solved for all of us, or he’ll get stuck. But at least Mrs J and I will sleep uninterrupted, and he’ll still be there in the morning. Well, it’s a plan!

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