Three cats, two doors. Kitty wants in. Spaz wants out. Figaro wants in. But if you open the door for her in response to a pleading look from the window, she’s suddenly standoffish, too cool to come in. She’ll look back from the front step as if to say, “Oh, you’re coming out? It’s great out here.”, or maybe she’ll bolt, as if she could read my mind and see me punting her from the step. But you can bet that three minutes later Figaro will be pawing at the back door, denying she was the cat who just blew you off in front.
This is Kitty, about two minutes after her desperate morning plea to be let out. Peering through her paw polished pane, wanting back in. I’ll let her in many times today. We are all Cat Doormen in our house.