Don't tell Earl he can't jump that high

I think my older kitten, Earl, secretly thinks he is an outdoor cat. Not that he knows what that means, mind you. I mean, let's face it. He can't even do in a bug. He just circles it and circles it, looking at it with a worried look on his feline face.

He's terrified of our chinchilla. This is a rodent from South America. When reviewing information on chinchillas, all experts agree that domesticated felines are actually one of the main predators that chinchillas have to worry about. And yet, when perched on her cage and poised to attack, Earl simply minces around with a look that says"mommy! It TOUCHED me! Help!"

If he was to stalk prey, it would likely die of old age (or laughter) before he could move in for the kill. So no. Earl was not meant for outdoor life.

But bless his simple little mind, he WANTS to be fiercely independent. I think the chief example of this is his need to climb. But what does he climb? Doorways. Yes. Doorways. And he isn't very skilled at it, either. No, his version of climbing entails gazing adoringly at me, then the wall, and back at me again.

That's the cue. I then wait for him to leap vertically, grab his hind end, and boost him up the wall. Pause for effect at the top of the door so all can bask in his accomplishment. Then, down he comes. Usually because he has nipped me for daring to touch his wild self. I assume anyway. No part of this routine makes sense to me.

So next time you see me standing in a doorway, holding a kitten up by the ceiling don't look directly at him. It'll ruin it for him.