The making of an indoor cat

Mr. B. and I spent most of last night worrying about Garfield/Pumpkin’s safety as he spent a cold night outside. He wanted out so bad at 6 p.m. Friday that, despite having kept him inside nights since Monday, I reluctantly obliged.

Mr. B. kept asking on the hour whether he was back yet. When he still hadn’t returned by 2 a.m. Saturday, despite leaving the patio door open several inches so he could shoulder his way back in, we both found it hard to sleep.

I was worrying a raccoon would get him, a car run over him, or a stray dog chase him up a tree, etc. But when I got up at 9:30, there was Senor Gato snoozing on the couch in the family room. A little distant as he usually is after one of these all-night events, however.

It’s going to be the last one, I’ve decided. I know he’s transitioning from an outdoor to an indoor life, and that’s a hard row to hoe, so we’ll compromise for a while. I will let him out in the morning, but no more all-nighters.

Outdoor cats live an average of 2 to 5 years, it says on WebMD. Up to 20 years of life for an indoor one. Not to mention the years his being out all night subtract from mine.

2 responses to “The making of an indoor cat

  1. Had an orange Tomcat for years that roamed all day and returned to the safety of our garage at night. He was coerced into that schedule by only putting out a bowl of food in the evenings. Nada mas.

  2. Well, he escaped this morning. As before I will leave the patio door open enough for him to squeeze through and hope he returns before dark. At least this way there’s a good chance he will stay in the back forty.

    Then, he didn’t. Six hours later, Mr. B. saw him on the sidewalk out front. I opened the front door and called for him to come in, which he did, rather sedately, using the walkway instead of cutting across the grass. He was hungry, apparently, because he wanted out again after eating. Didn’t let him.