Murphy is an indoor/outdoor cat. Sometimes it seems that when I am in, he’s out and vice versa. I always keep him in if I’m going out. He is a one person cat, so I worry about him not coming in if I am not there. I doubt he would respond to anyone else, let alone coming in the house for them. My neighbor, who looks after Murph when I am away, never sees him. He claims that he only knows I have a cat because the food disappears and the litter tray gets fuller.
As you can see from the top photo Murphy has his unique way of telling me that he wants to come back in:
Yep, he scrabbles and scratches at the glass doors. He does the same thing to tell me that he wants to go outside. Obviously, I don’t know if he does this if I am not there, but I think not as his extracatsensory perception seems to highly tuned to where I am at any one given moment. Especially, if there is a warm lap to sit in.
Anyway his “let me in/out” behavior always makes me think of this poem:
That Cat by Ben King
The cat that comes to my window sill
When the moon looks cold and the night is still –
He comes in a frenzied state alone
With a tail that stands like a pine tree cone,
And says “I have finished my evening lark,
And I think I hear the hound dog bark,
My whiskers are froze ‘nd stuck to my chin.
I do wish you’d git up and let me in.”
That cat gits in.
But if in the solitude of the night
He doesn’t appear to be feeling tight,
And rises and stretches and seeks the floor,
And some remote corner he would explore,
And doesn’t feel satisfied just because
There’s no good spot for to sharpen his claws,
And meows and canters uneasy about
Beyond the least shadow of any doubt
That cat gits out.