This weather brings back memories of DeeJay.
DeeJay hated the rain. And he would bitch about it. When he wanted to go outside, he made it clear that he wasn’t happy with the precipitation.
He’d go to one door (there are three leading to the backyard), usually the door in the laundry room. This door used to have a catdoor in it. He’d open it part way, see that it was wet outside, then start grumping about it. You know that cat growly, whiny noise they make, the one that lets you know without a doubt that the turn of events isn’t a pleasing one.
He’d come back inside, then go to one of the sliding doors, where he’d yowl until someone opened the door. He’d look out and see that same damned precipitation. Once again, he’d let us know he wasn’t happy. Then he’d go to door number three. Same thing. Sometimes he’d venture out the garage catdoor with the same resulting grouching at us, as if it was our fault.
As smart as the cats sometimes are, sometimes they aren’t very. DeeJay and the rain and the doors was one of those times when it was so obvious that kitty cats don’t process data the way we humans do. DeeJay just never understood it, why every door led to rain.
I sure miss him.
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