Two Sundays ago we found a cat eating the leftover bacon in the kitchen. He looked up and ran for the window, jumping between the decorative bars. The kitchen gets too hot to close the windows, so we put screen across the window, and the cat stopped stopping by. The next week, however, there was a cat in the kitchen, sitting on top of the oven, still warm from baking. I shooed it out and carefully closed the door and the second window. The next morning there was no cat. That night we ate lamb and after dinner I wrapped the leftover lamb in plastic and left it on the counter.
The following morning, I went into the kitchen and the lamb was wrapped in its plastic, undisturbed. Then I heard a funny noise, sort of creaking–no birds out the window, so I turned back, and there on top of the oven was the cat, curled up in a basket that had held strawberries (Note to self, scrub basket). The cat had batted at the smaller window and bumped the sides open and had entered and made itself at home, not hungry at all. When I came in, it hopped out the small window onto the patio. The doors were all closed so I opened a door and carefully moved to the side so it could make a break for the door.
Never mind–it had no interest in the door. It climbed up the strangler fig in the middle of the patio, stopped half way up to meow a few times to protest its ouster and then continued up onto the roof and away. Now I have to lock the small window at night in addition to putting a rock by the door to keep it closed.
Llywindatravels 2022 