Her Very Nature
We're losing the battle to keep Whitsun indoors-only.
Whitsun’s gotten out a bunch of times since we got home from John’s surgery. Each time, she’s sauntered back after several hours, clearly happy, a little dirty, and not at all hungry. She’s tucked herself into her living room cat bed, carefully cleaned up her paws, and then zonked out in a deep, satisfied sleep.
A couple of days ago, as I stood in the kitchen being shouted at in no uncertain terms by my cat and contemplated a day of doing battle with a seven-pound wiry twist of muscle wrapped in a furry tuxedo all day long every time I approached my back door, I gave up. I let her out intentionally early in the day.
I know this makes everyone nervous. It makes us nervous, too. But watching her in the backyard, it’s very clear she’s previously spent plenty of time outdoors. The limited history we have from the humane society on her is that she was brought in as a stray with her two kittens; if she fended for herself and two kittens outdoors, she’s quite capable outdoors indeed.
Our yard is a good “cat yard.” There are many hiding places, lots of shrubbery to scoot under, and many protected places to lie in the dirt or on the pavement and keep an eye on the neighborhood. I’ve watched her steadily scent-mark the backyard with her toileting habits each time she’s out. We use a composting natural kitty litter for her, so my compost bins are full of her signature as well. There’s no doubt to cat-senses that this yard is her space, and I feel confident she knows where home is.
In fact, the other morning, John watched her run off another neighborhood cat shortly after I let her out.
She already knows where the coolest concrete is. I keep a bowl of water out by the back door when she is out, and I make sure the stone basin in the upper garden is rinsed and filled with fresh water. There’s an existing cat door on the garage (visible in the above photo) so she can get into the garage for safety and shelter, too, if I don’t hear her at the back door. Consultations are underway for a cat door on the house and the dacha, too.
Yesterday morning, she asked to go out at 6:30 am. I let her out. She clearly had an agenda and headed off into the daylilies alongside the driveway. A couple of hours later, as I was packing up the hanging laundry due to threatening rain while chatting on the phone to my dear mother-in-law, Whitsun reappeared out of nowhere and asked to go back in, after which she took a long drowsy nap in the living room.
I suspect she’s making exploratory loops of nearby areas, as she’ll disappear for a bit and then I’ll spot her coming back through the yard. Frequently, she’s reappeared when I was talking outside, so I think she listens for me, too.
Of course, I’m worried about something happening to prevent her from getting back home for some reason. Collar and tags are forthcoming, and she is microchipped. But I think we have to accept the risks. Spending time outdoors is going to have to be part of her life. To deny her this is to make her miserable. We wouldn’t train a dog to avoid fetching a ball; chasing a ball is in their very nature. Clearly, the outdoors is part of Whitsun’s very nature, too.
Since she’s been getting outside, she’s gotten more cuddly in the evenings. Is she trying to reassure us? Or just being more intentional about scent-sharing? Either way, it’s a very nice change. Prior to us being away for John’s surgery, she hadn’t been one to climb up against me while I’m reading.
I ditched the paywall on my essays and posts months ago. I didn’t want to penalize folks who can’t afford multiple subscriptions! Life is expensive, and the current administration hasn’t done anything to help that. So, everything here is free to read, free to subscribe to, and free to comment on. I am slowly unpacking older posts from behind the old paywall, too.
I love that so many of you read what I write and comment so thoughtfully and kindly. Thank you for being here. If you would like to support this writer tangibly, a paid subscription is just $30/year. It’s kind of like NPR: everything is free, but if you support us financially, you get to feel virtuous. And there’s no tote bag. At least not yet. Maybe we need a Whitsun tote bag. Something to think about.
I would be interested in a Whitsun tote bag!
Whitsun being out, that is a hard decision but you make a good case especially when they are so adamant about going out. You and John have provided a lovely space for her and she clearly loves you. I say, go with God young Whitsun and be well, But please come back to your people.