After the last Crax post, we started putting the cat in the laundry room for the night. Her litter box is in there, and we put her food and carrier and toys in there, so it’s not a total torture. Plus, she hangs out in there for at least a quarter of the day anyway.
The first night, I was so tired that I conked out around 10 after putting her away. We had a few false starts where she got out a couple or three times before staying in for good. I think I didn’t lock the cat door once, and she figured out how to turn the top of the lock to let herself out… I finally turned the lock so the knob itself was blocking the opening, then I went to bed and promptly passed out. I didn’t hear her, but since TCB stayed up in the living room, he said that she was hurling herself at the cat door, and that’s how she was getting out: brute force. He put a box with weights on it in front of the cat door, and then went to bed. The cat was very happy to see me in the morning.
Night 2 went about the same way, except she got louder in the morning when I walked down the stairs. We gave her the weekend and Monday night off.
Tuesday night, she decided she didn’t like being in there at all and just hurled herself at the cat door all night. We woke up in bed in the middle of the night and heard her repeatedly crashing against it. TCB then put a large tile in front of the door, between it and the weighted box, for extra stability. When I walked downstairs the next morning, I heard noises like someone was strangling the cat but no, it was just Crax voicing her displeasure. She wiggled out of the cat door as soon as I moved the box and tile, didn’t wait for me to open the door (that swings inward, I don’t need to move the box to get in, I just didn’t want the tile to fall.)
And then Wednesday night, she redoubled her efforts. We didn’t sleep very well because of our own personal demon banging on the laundry room door. All. Night. Long. Around 6:30 am, it stopped, and as I drifted off to sleep again, I heard “prrt?!” and then Piper jumped on the bed.
She’d gotten out.
Later that day, I noticed that the whiskers on the right side of her face were much, much shorter than the ones on the left and much shorter than they used to be. We left her out last night and will this weekend but, because she went back to her usual playing with the closet doors and under-bed scratching, we have to figure out a new plan for Monday.