Bud E Phat and Elsa, both love to lounge on the patio. Which requires I leave the door open for them to enter and exit at will. Along with a few of flying friends. For those of you who do not know about my extreme issues with all things entomology please see http://www.lisatastrophies.com/2008/03/help-im-buggin-out.html
So after purchasing what amounts to enough extermination chemicals to rid the entire state of anything even thinking about flying (including 747's, small birds and Green-skinned-ruby-slipper-stealing witches) I gave up and bought a screen door cover. Only it's not a door. I can't have a real screen door since I currently live in an apartment complex run by former Nazis and they frown on any form of home improvement. So I got this cool screen that hangs from the top of the door frame and mimics a door. Thank GAWD for velcro and spring loaded poles on this thing or it would have never made it out of the box. Anyway, to get in and out, all the cats have to do is push their way through the hanging screen. Simple enough, right. RRRIIIGGGHHHTTT...
Now I am not sure who is going to get the award for being higher on the evolutionary scale: the cats for sitting there staring at the screen for over an hour straight trying to figure out how to get inside. Or me for sitting there for an hour straight watching them watch the screen trying to figure out how to get inside. At this point I leaning toward it being a tie.
After three days of the Great Screen Door Stare Down and me repeatedly shoving their rotund bodies through a flimsy screen in a vain attempt to teach their cat-brains to comprehend the physics of cat-in-the-door : cat-out-the-door (I even made some rudimentary slides on the concept of inertia), I thought they were starting to get it.
Until tonight and Elsa sitting outside the screen meowing like she was never again going to get Fancy Feast. After about ten minutes of Meow-a-polousa I started to wonder if things were o.k. Was she dying? Had she gotten her tail caught on something? Was the house on fire and she was trying to bravely save my life by alerting me to the coming danger?
No, Miss I-hope-she-marries-well-cause-she's-dumber-than-a-box-of-rocks had forgotten how to push the screen aside so she could get back inside.
So much for my brilliant teaching skills.