Never again will that lake outside my window hinder me from my preferred exit on co-op days. This week I bought a pair of almost knee-high wellies from Target. Too bad no one is around at 3am to see how totally fashionable I am crawling out my window!
Tuesday mornings are not the only day my window sees traffic, though. Here’s what I mean: When I moved over here I brought few possessions (although Heather says otherwise). I did, however, bring my regal tiger-striped cat, Maxwell. My “big boy” is truly huge. He’s larger than my daughter Karen’s three chihuahua’s put together and boasts a tail so bushy the neighborhood squirrels blush when he walks by.
I’m quite attached to my feline friend, so when we moved here I built him a 10×10 pen to comply with the crazy NRH ordinance that prevents cats from roaming. As temperatures reached the freezing point I asked to bring him inside. Simple. No problem. Well, not exactly. Unfortunately, Heather’s cat literally came with a piece of paper that said “I don’t play well with others,” so I have to keep Maxwell confined to my room.
Unfortunately, Maxwell remembers the days when he had a kingdom of his own, so he isn’t content to abide the “bedroom only” rule. In the middle of the night he often starts meowing and scratching at the door, threatening to wake everyone in the house. After several unsuccessful attempts to reason with him there was only one remaining sensible option – which I promptly exercised. I threw him out the window. Not only has this become a workable exit strategy when he is misbehaving, the window has also become his preferred entrance. One Tuesday morning as I climbed out my window for co-op the situation became considerably complicated when Maxwell insisted on trying to crawl into the bedroom at the exact moment I needed to leave. He’s not allowed in the bedroom when I’m gone so a cat fight ensued. I eventually won, but had anyone been around to witness the scene it certainly would have been amusing!
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