I’ve just returned from my invigorating sunset stroll. Much like humans enjoy, except Mama insists on dressing me in a ridiculous harness contraption. By restricting my adventure zone she claims this will prevent the following unfortunate fates should I abscond:
a) being stolen by another British Shorthair enthusiast who in addition to lacking morals, serves poor quality food;
b) facing a violent altercation with another feline, resulting in torn ears and decimated pride; and
c) prematurely waking up in the cathouse in the sky after playing tag with a 2 tonne vehicle on big wheels.
I couldn’t find a more committed pessimist if I tried. Still, I am choosy when it comes to the evening meal, or the morning one for that matter, so I acquiesce.
If you too insist on harnessing your feline while tip toeing through the catnip, may I suggest the following.
For the first-time feline stroller, leave the door to inside open in case we need to make a hasty exit from the frightening thing that is nature.
To the outdoorsy Mama (or Papa) grass may appear to be a harmless ground cover. But beware! Strange creatures lurk beneath so if your feline employs the same hesitation walking across the lawn as one might a minefield, be patient.
Remember that your feline companion is not a canine. Instead of panting stupidly at your heels, looking up to you for approval and the next move, we like to take our time. Smell the roses if you wish. Don’t yank on that harness, just let us be!
Take it slow. We can spend months exploring the one backyard. Even then that might be enough.
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