Captain was looking a little forlorn this morning. He didn’t want pats. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to snuggle. He wasn’t even crying… until I opened the back door.
I may have been played.
Regardless of how it came to pass, I ended up taking the Wheezyriders outside this morning. I had to water the plants anyway and better now, I thought, then when it really gets hot out. So I let Captain skitter out the door first, holding Bill back because I cannot keep track of two monsters in the yard. Not this early. Not with that much humidity making me stupid.
Again, he ran for the second level of the deck and tried to sneak past me out into the grass, but I cut him off. He made it his mission instead to sniff the bajesus out of the grill. And that’s… pretty much how he spent his outside time. Sniffing the grill.
He protested a little when I picked him up to bring him in, but only the standard twisting to get out of my arms stuff.
Bill was another story. Once I let him out, he sniffed the bar and the chairs, then he sniffed the plants and the fence. Then he climbed up on the second level and spent the rest of his time under the table sniffing all the chairs and the umbrella base. When it got too hot for me to play anymore, I coaxed him out from under a chair with pats (happy kitty sounds!) and picked him up (angry kitty sounds!) and he cried like I was beating him until I brought him back inside. Such drama with that one.
In my mind, now, Kitties have had their outside time. They came, they saw, they sniffed and now we’re donesies. Right? No more begging to go outside?