When an optimist gets an idea, he or she assumes it’ll be just fine. These are the same people who might begin an event by saying:
- Hold my beer.
- I could wrestle that.
- I could eat that.
- Let’s take the cat for a walk.
I was one of these people this week. I swear it all made perfect sense when I ordered the leash and harness. Our dog loves his walks, and our house cat Pootie (I didn’t name her and accept no responsibility) is pretty much like a dog. She’s very easygoing. She runs to greet us at the door. She loves having her belly rubbed. Plus, she’s quite tubby and could use the exercise. The next logical step is to take her for a trek around the neighborhood.
Now hear me out. Some cats do love going walking, hiking, busking, even rock-climbing with their “personal attendants” (not “owners” or “masters,” mind you – we are talking about cats here). I don’t personally know any cats like this, but I’ve read about it and seen it in videos, so it is totally possible. I felt confident my Pootie would be among them!
When the contraption first arrived, I had the foresight to let her get used to it by wearing it around the house before venturing outdoors. The harness consisted of one piece of mesh-like material with appendages that Velcro’d and safety-clasped around the neck, and larger appendages that Velcro’d around the midsection. On the top were two metal rings for which to attach the leash. I was a bit embarrassed on her behalf that the harness barely fit around her midsection. Good thing we were about to add a healthy walk into her normal daily routine of grooming, blocking the bathroom sink while her personal attendants tried to brush their teeth, and alternating between napping spots.
Her reaction to the harness was to meander around as if she’d just imbibed several stiff drinks. She seemed incapable of walking a straight line at this point, and instead would step awkwardly sideways until reaching the nearest object, at which point she’d flop down onto her side and remain there awhile. It was both humorous and sad, but I knew I must keep my resolve if she were to ever have a chance to safely enjoy time together outdoors. The good news is, within a fairly short time, she seemed to have accepted wearing the harness and was acting like her usual self. It was a bit disappointing she didn’t take to the harness right away, but hope was still alive!
I tried acclimating her to the harness a few times throughout the next couple of days. Finally, the Big Day arrived. I hooked up the leash attachment and we were going to head outdoors.
It might be prudent to mention here we have three house cats altogether – all rescues. Two were a bonded pair who really needed a home. I have two children, so one for each. Perfect. Pootie came along a year and a half later, and as much as we love her, I wish she’d never come to be ours, because she was my dad’s companion. Gaining her meant we’d lost him. There was never a second thought as to she’d come to live with us after he passed unexpectedly. I would take care of her, as Dad would have wanted. I helped her, and she helped me, as we each grieved in our own way. He always sung her praises, and as I’ve gotten to know her better, he was so right. She’s very special. It was he who actually first mentioned he’d like to get her a little harness and leash and thought she might enjoy walking with him. Since he had no car, his main mode of transportation was walking. Sadly, he never got the chance to try.
So here we are, Pootie and I, at the door, about to embark on a new adventure! My kids are here, too. And my dog. I didn’t want to break the old guy’s heart by taking the cat for a walk and leaving him behind. What an insult that would be! We’re all just so excited. Well, we three humans are, at least. The dog is, too, but for his own reasons. He doesn’t care about the cat. Pootie shows no emotion. She’s got an astounding poker face.
The door is open. Pootie is not interested. Thankfully, none of our cats have ever tried to run outside, which in most circumstances would be a really bad and scary thing for them and for us. They’re not equipped for the wild life! But because Pootie is safe in her harness and carefully being watched over by three personal attendants, it’s okay. She doesn’t know that yet. We decide to carry her outside and then set her down on the deck. She starts meowing nervously. We give her lots of pets and reassuring words.
Eventually, we all move down to the lawn. More meowing, more petting and soothing talk. She doesn’t try to dart away or resist against the harness. She just stays nearby to us, trepidatious. At one point she notices an empty space beneath our porch and heads for cover to hide. We hold her back from escaping into its darkness. We do make it one whole voyage around the perimeter of our home, and decide that’s enough for today. Pootie is relieved to be back in the safety and familiarity of the indoors, and I’m left to face reality that my happy vision of a family casually walking their cat is not going to happen. At least not today. Maybe not ever. Too bad. I was really looking forward to baffling the neighbors once again.