While we were away, Jack was in town at my daughter’s. She lives on the 7th floor so he had to put on his pampered kitty mode, spiced with a twist of seniority to manage with her two Maine Coons. He may be a country cat at heart but he also masters the city mode perfectly. After all, that is how he spends the winter months with us sometimes being too comfort loving to go out for practically any other reason than to avoid using the litter box.
The moment she brought him home, his spoon-fed character flew away and he was again the king of the hill strong and brave enough for anything. When she went to the forest across the field behind our place to pick mushrooms he followed her there.
I did warn her it would be too much for Jack. I knew from experience. After a while she called me telling it was too troublesome with him and she was bringing him back. I met her to ensure Jack would stay home and she could return to the forest and actually pick something before sunset.
Unlike dogs, cats are such cleanliness-loving animals they do not like to get dirt on their paws. It would have been quite easy just to carry him home but he doesn’t like to be held.
Despite the muddy adventure, Jack’s paws were probably spotlessly in no time thereafter. I wonder what happened to my daughter’s rubber boots. I bet they are still untouched in the trunk of her car.