Caturday.

Truman has pretty much adjusted to his required harness when out on the balcony. Curiously, when he has the harness on he always sits or lies down out there he always does it so he can bring his paws together.

He then gives me a look.

Inspection.

Truman inspects the hallway every morning. We have a daily routine; I scoop his business out of his litter box, take it down to the trash chute, and he follows along and sniffs at the doorways where we knows other cats and dogs live. He’s silent as he walks from door to door, though if you get really close one can hear him purring.

He goes around the corner and then I kneel down. He sees me kneel down and comes over and rubs my outstretched hand, then I get up and walk to our front door. He follows along, taking his time, glancing about in transit. He then runs through the front door and goes to the kitchen cabinet where he knows he’ll get two treats.

We do this every day. It’s not a day unless we’ve done this together. He enjoys the routine as much as I do.

Caturday.

Truman is slowing getting used to having to be in a harness to go out on the balcony. I can’t use the harness or leash to guide him in anyway, he has to be leading the way at all times. If I give it a little tug to suggest he go to another part of the balcony, he’ll flop over on his side and start playing with the leash.

I’m happy that’s he’s getting to experience the balcony a little but I’m very happy he’s on a harness, he’s pressed his head against the metal mesh below the railing and goes to the floor. I don’t have to worry about him ever falling off the balcony, but I wouldn’t put it past him to try to jump on the railing and we can’t have that.

I think he’s looking forward to the warmer weather just as much as we are.

Caturday.

I think Truman is getting bored with the subtle changes in our routine, even though we’re both home most of the time under normal circumstances. He knows something is different with the world but he can’t put his kitty paws on the details. Kibble and treats are happening on schedule but something tells his feline sixth sense that something is off.

To help cope with this situation he works on shredding the couch (I was tempted to call it a ‘davenport’) and climbing the screens on the windows to the balcony.

He needs a catcation, despite the innocent look displayed in the photo above.

Caturday.

Truman’s day is not complete unless he can spend a few moments inspecting the hallway. There’s some sort of rule in our building that all the cats meow at the front door at precisely 8:00 AM. Truman does this and according to our neighbors their cats do it too. Both adjacent to our unit and above our unit.

Truman settles down by 9:00 AM everyday.

Interestingly, the meowing at the front door is only during the week. He spends his weekend mornings meowing at our bedroom door. A few weeks ago we swapped out the door handle so he couldn’t pull down on it anymore.

He’s such a cat.

Truman has me trained well: clean out the litter box, put it into a small garbage bag, take it to the trash chute, and let him walk the hallways while I’m walking back and forth to finish my human duties.

I wouldn’t have him any other way.

Innocence.

Truman has been a bit wild today. During my lunch break he decided to completely rearrange the cushions on the couch and make himself a nice little fort. He then proceeded to pull pillows out of the cushions.

By the way, my grandmother had a different name for the couch or sofa. She called it “the Davenport”. It always sounded so regal to me.

I think Truman was sensing the changes in barometric pressure as the latest storm system moved in. I poked fun at meteorologists on Twitter this morning because they’ve been screeching and hooting and hollering about the incoming snow storm but one change of so many inches and the predicted foot of snow becomes an inch of snow.

Let’s face it, Mother Nature will do what she wants to do and that’s all there is to it.

And Truman will do the same.