Kitty Leash

My cat, Garfield we will call him, has not adjusted well to city life. He misses our spacious, historic Southern home and yard. Although an inside cat, he always enjoyed the option of roaming the great outdoors for short periods of time whenever the call of the wild became too urgent. He would spend his outdoor adventures napping on the wicker porch furniture, blissfully rolling in the grass, or, to my dismay, conducting kitty exploration under the house. And then napping some more on the porch.

I have always thought Garfield acted more like a dog than a cat. He comes when called by name, and he jumps up on the legs of new visitors. Most cats have to get to know you over the course of a few months before rubbing a wet noses on your bare ankles, but not Garfield. He never met a stranger. While inside, he follows at my heels like a loyal companion, and while outside, he would always protect his territory. I even saw him scare a neighbor’s dog away from our porch once. The little mutt scurried away trembling after Garfield arched his back and puffed out his long fur. He does a very good impression of a blowfish.

So, condo living has been difficult. Garfield expends his excess energy by running in circles or by belligerently attacking our other cat, Nermal. The lack of space seems to have brought on some weight gain as well. Every time one of us goes in or out the front door, Garfield attempts an escape. He has managed a few adventures out into our hallway but seems baffled by the lack of porch and grass. This is why today Aquarius bought a cat leash at Target. It seemed like a great idea. He already acts like a dog, he’s afraid of absolutely nothing, and he wants to go outside more than anything else. Sure we might look a little weird walking a cat, but he will love going down to the courtyard and playing in the fallen leaves. We were overly optimistic.

After Aquarius’ ten minute battle to get the harness on and properly adjusted (we had to buy a dog harness because Garfield is too fat for the cat harness), we proudly opened the front door assuming he would immediately understand his new freedom. No, he plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor. I have never seen him refuse an open offer to go outside, but because it wasn’t his idea, it wasn’t a good one. We called, we coaxed, but he refused. Aquarius pulled on the leash dragging his furry belly across the tile. Garfield’s response to this was to roll on his back and throw a temper tantrum like a two-year-old. He then rolled across the floor flopping from back to belly entangling himself in the leash. His next tactic, after we unwound him, was to make it safely out of the kitchen to the carpet where he dug his back claws in for dear life. With claws out, he began to attack the leash, biting it as if in retaliation for some wrong done. Aquarius picked him up and carried him into the hall. Certainly once he saw the benefit of the leash he would come to accept it. No, he plopped down in the middle of the hallway. His body was limp as if the weight of the harness was too heavy to bear. The only way to get him back inside was to remove the immobilizing strap. Aquarius is convinced that this can work, and another kitty leash training session is planned for tomorrow.