My foster-cat Parker has been eyeing the cylinder-house cat-tree for a while. Cammie and Renn continue to use it, and the orange-boy has watched them, almost, it seems, with envy. He appears less interested in Cammie’s time in the cylinder than Renn’s, perhaps because my big boy and Parker are both large and heavy. It may be that Parker feels that if Renn can pull himself into the shelter, then other felines of a similar bulk can do so.
I have seen and heard Parker attempting the climb recently. A harsh, short struggle to find a purchase with which to boost himself up was followed by a descent to the floor again. It is not the most easily achieved spot in the apartment. It is, I think, easier to land on top of the cylinder than inside it. But he was clearly determined and, last night, he found success.
I hadn’t heard any sound beforehand, so the orange-boy must have planned his ascent carefully. I came out of the bedroom, and there he was. He didn’t stay in the cylinder-house long, though. It was almost as if the achievement was enough. He dropped down, rubbed against me and lie on the track-ball for a snooze. Mission accomplished.