For a little more than two years, my cat has lived exclusively indoors and has shown little to no interest in the happenings of the world beyond the apartment walls.
In the last week, this has changed.
Twice now she has run out through the front door as I was entering. She hasn’t gone any farther than about three feet from the door and hasn’t shown much interest in descending down the stairs which lead away from my second-floor apartment.
I have allowed her out onto the back balcony a few times over the last months. She wanders around sniffing everything for about 5 minutes before deciding to go back inside to investigate what food may or may not have been added to her dish in her abscence.
Last night, after a brief escape out the front door, I thought that it might be good for her to have some balcony time. As I opened the sliding door and watched my cat saunter out onto the wood deck, I thought to myself, “Where could she possibly go? I live on the second floor.”
About 10 seconds later, I found myself inspecting the three foot gap between the point where my balcony ends and my neighbor’s balcony begins — a gap which I had to that point never had reason to notice. My inspection followed closely on the heels of my cat jumping across the gap and disappearing into the darkness of my neighbor’s balcony.
Where could she possibly go, indeed.
It was almost midnight. I didn’t feel particularly interested in meeting my neighbor at that moment to retrieve my cat.
I called to her — kitty, kitty.
She called back — meow, meow.
After several repetitions, I gave up and went to have a snack.
I called again. She answered from somewhere in the darkness.
Apparently, she had already forgotten the path which she had taken to reach the other balcony.
I shook a food packet. She meowed back.
I sat quietly shaking my head. She meowed again.
After about 15 minutes, she remembered the correct route home and returned with a look of pride on her face.
No more outside privileges for her.