Much excitement around here today, for the workmen came for a good old-fashioned cat coop raising! An outdoor enclosure for the cats is something that me and Argotnaut have talked about for, oh, about a decade now. And Buster's insistent peeing beside every open window when the weather was nice strengthened our resolve to the point of writing a check just to get the damn thing done. It was either that or, as my beloved Dad would say, turn to the "10 cent solution" -- 10 cents being the price of a .22 caliber bullet.
We prefer this solution. And it was actually fairly easy because the previous owners of the house had a dog run installed alongside. So it was basically a matter of sealing the top and a few other areas with chicken wire. They knocked the job off in about three hours, and then it was the kitties turn to investigate the new digs. As you can see in the first picture below, we have installed a pet door in our bedroom window so the kitties can come and go as they please. For now, I've placed a TV tray outside the window to make it easier for them to jump up and down. This will be replaced by a permanent platform in the next day or two. The coop actually is bigger than my first studio apartment, I think. How did those kitties get so spoiled? Beats me.
Argotnaut liked the airy nature of the coop so much that she dragged her chaise longue out for some studying and cat surveying. Buster acts as her study mate:
It will be interesting to see how much the kitties use the coop after the novelty has worn off. But if we install a few platforms for them to climb up onto, I don't expect to see them much until the monsoon comes.
3 comments:
I wish the five or so cats that have moved into our little condo plot in the last year had these.
Then we would still have bluebirds in our yard!
Also, there would not be this now-constant vague cat poop smell under the bushes near our back door.
Our cats, being Luddite cats, have opted for the tried-and-true "claw a big hole in the screen" method. If we close the door (to keep dogs in, or some foolishness), one sits at the door and squalls at the top of her lungs. If she wants in, she does the same-- the whole neighborhood probably hears. I'm surprised they don't call the SPCA on us for torturing her with a fork!
Hey, we could send her to you! I'm sure she'd love the condo/park. Nah. I'm over it now. We live to serve our pets.
From Devon:
It's been a week now. . . has the novelty worn off yet?
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