A Kitty Becomes a Cat

Today, Atticus left the confines of our home to live among the cats of the neighborhood. I have been supremely against this for his entire (one year life) but in the last week he has done severe damage to our couch cushion. And naturally it's the same cushion so I can't rotate it anymore without the zipper or maimed sections showing.

This morning, after I found his latest frenzy all over the floor and his cat food bag that he tore apart, I decided today, June 10, was as good as any to set him free. I watched him through the window before I left for work, chasing the other neighborhood cats and having a great time.

When I came home at lunch time, I found him straddling the gate between our house and our neighbors like a pathetic little kitten. It was evident that he thinks I abandoned him and no sign of his buddies around (though, this is also a good thing. See herb garden post here.)

Now I realize this is an animal. Animals are naturally found outdoors. BUT when you raise one indoors for its entire life, I imagine it's like dropping your 5-year-old off at kindergarten for the first day. Who knew deep down I was a lover of (my own--not others) cats.

I was strong and did leave him outside after lunch. When I got home from work before one final meeting, he was glad to have the companionship again, nuzzling, and ready to stay indoors. But, again, I left him outside as I left again. After finally returning home for what felt like the 657th time today, he'd been let in by Scott, and feeling cozy on the floor in one of his favorite spots.

Currently, as I blog via my porch, he's running around the front yard chasing bugs as dusk turns to night. Not sure how the next twelve hours are going to go, but I'm pretty proud I didn't cave during my time home leaving him inside. Victory for me in self-discipline.