Sunday night, as I was coming home from visiting two different catted households where I had indeed petted 2 other cats, I could not get into my house. The mister was out somewhere and it had just gotten dark enough for me to be slightly blind in front of my house with no lights on (we never turn on the outside light in the summer). I was also carrying purse, keys, sweatshirt, and GPS whoosie that I borrowed and was not doing a good job of juggling all of it. So when I got to the door, in the dark, with my hands full I was NONE TOO PLEASED that the front door lock decided to be finicky and not so much let me in the house. I seriously struggled with that so-and-so long enough that 1) I started feeling like a total moron that I couldn’t get into my own house, 2) the neighbors might have call the police soon because some shadowy octopus creature (the GPS cord was all reaching out in every direction) was trying to break into my house and 3) the cats actually came to the door, turned off their stealth mode and cried in concern.
Oh yes, my boys have concerned cries. Usually, they are heard on the way to the vet or the day we moved from old house to new house. They were behind the door I was trying to break into crying like I was bringing them to the vet. I don’t know if they could smell me through the door and knew it was me… or smell the other kitties through the door and thought it might be an interloper… or suspected some malcontent was trying to break into their house. But once I finally did get the door open, they celebrated by purring and walking in circles around my feet.
Maybe they were trying to give me instructions on how to open the door. I don’t know. I don’t speak cat very well.