Tiger (our young adult male cat) wandered into S' window a few years ago and decided that apartment was as good a place as any. He stayed.
S used to leave the window open and he would come and go as he pleased. She got him a collar and put a message on the collar for anyone to call if they owned him. No one did. He would drop by to eat, evacuate his stomach, and sleep. But for the most part he liked being outside.
S got a call one day from a concerned person who just wanted to let her know that Tiger was trying to cross the busiest street in the area. Thus ended his freedom. She still let him outside, but it was only on a leash. He seemed to greet the change in lifestyle philosophically. He was still able to lounge in the sun or sit on the top of the fence watching the world go by. And then S and I moved in together in a different apartment.
The new place represented a step-up for Tiger. His leash length doubled and he was able to roam the backyard. I put up a little ladder so he could get on the roof of one of the out-buildings and he would lie up there in the sun for hours at a time. We still wouldn't let him off the leash due to the proximity of a major street but he seemed quite happy. Every so often we would come outside and find him dangling from somewhere in his harness but he took even that indignity in stride. And then we got a new upstairs neighbor.
It was a combination of things that did Tiger's outdoor existence in. One was the presence of a large number of pretty (and difficult to find replacements for) flower pots that started appearing around the yard, up the stairs, and on C's back porch railing. Another was a bird that decided to start a family above C's back porch light. Every other minute one of us would have to go untangle Tiger's leash from the latest flower pot he had tracked around. And once the birds started chirping there was no keeping him from climbing the back stairs and trying to get at those tender morsels. In the process, flower pots began to lose their lives. And leaving that aside, with the addition of all these obstacles it got to the point where one of us would have to be outside every second Tiger was out there monitering him. His own personal valet, so to speak. We tried anchoring the leash in various locations and giving him different lengths, all to no avail. Eventually we just gave up and Tiger became an indoor cat.
He's never forgotten.
If he is given the opportunity he will escape the apartment and roam free. He usually stays out all night and comes back some time the next morning. And then we have to go through a couple of days of fun because Ocey, our other cat, doesn't recognize his new smell and hisses and yowls at him every time he gets close. A couple of times we've caught him within a half hour of his escape. Doesn't matter. That's long enough for him to get into some new scents.
Often he escapes through an open door. But he's also figured out he can unlatch the window screens. We've installed locking latches on the screens of the windows we open most often but haven't been religious in outfitting the entire apartment. Part of the reason is that we just can't open some of the windows anymore. For one reason or another the window screens are ripped to the extent that the cats can get out. Our window screens are old and idiosyncratic. They don't even make the particular heavy mesh metal screen that was used anymore and the frames themselves cost a pretty penny to replace since it's a custom job. Our property manager is a tightwad. The screens remain holed. Those windows stay closed.
One of the window screens with the old style latch is in the bathroom. Today, Tiger figured out he could open this one. Hilarity ensued, and continues to ensue. It was the gift that keeps on giving.
I was sitting at my laptop when I looked out the window and saw what I thought was Mamacat. Then I did a double-take because she looked bigger, and healthier, and an awful lot like Tiger. I immediately ran out the front door at which point Tiger, for it was indeed him, took off towards the driveway that goes to the back garage. I was waiting for him as he started down the driveway towards the street and he reversed course and headed towards the laundry room. Figuring his goal was the street I ran to the next driveway and cornered and caught him up against the fence there. All in all it was a pretty easy capture. He could've made things a lot more complicated if he had climbed any of the fences. Or just left using some route that didn't go past the one window in the house I could see out of.
I wanted to make sure that I knew how he had gotten out before I put him back in the house so I carried him around the apartment while I looked at each window. After one pass I was stymied. I had no idea how he had gotten out. On the second pass I finally saw that the bathroom window screen was ajar. It was hidden behind a sort of vine and trellis arrangement that our neighbor installed.
So that was easy to fix. I brought Tiger inside, re-latched the screen, and then slid the shower doors closed (I had left it open so the breeze would flow). A couple of minutes later I heard a weird noise from the bathroom. When I went to investigate I discovered that Tiger had jumped from the sink to the top of the frame that houses the sliding glass shower doors and was eyeing the window. So I gave up and just closed the window.
He's an obsessive cat, however. I heard him jump on top of that frame many times today. About an hour ago I walked past the bathroom on the way outside and there he was, prowling the frame trying to figure out how to get out that window.
I came in from outside after a few minutes. Did some dishes. Toasted up an English Muffin. Puttered around for a bit. Sat down at the computer. And then I heard this muffled complaining wauling sound. I went through every room two or three times checking in closets and under beds and behind couches. Couldn't find Tiger. Finally I remembered where I'd last seen him and slid back the shower door. There he was in the bottom of the tub. He'd jumped down and couldn't get out.
I think he'd been in that tub for about twenty minutes. He sure was lovey-dovey after that.
