THE CATIO
Catio? Yes or no?
Some years ago, my husband made a small catio* out of an old dog run. It sits off the side of our beach cabin with a cat door installed in the wall to access it. Since the catio’s inception, several of our clowder have passed through that plastic flap. Each has sniffed the salt sea air, listened to birdsong from the Douglas fir tree above, and generally reveled that part of themselves that is the Elementary Cat. It’s been a joy to watch their joy, especially the old ones, but none have given me quite so much pleasure as Clarence and his first trip outside.
Clarence in the backyard on a leash.
Clarence, having only this week turned one, has had a limited experience with the outdoors. I assume he spent time outside before he was brought to the humane society—how else would he have ended up with the terrible fracture that ultimately cost him his back leg? But since I adopted him, he’s been an indoor cat. At home, he enjoys sitting by the screen door, and I did take him into the backyard on a leash once, but the catio is different. Here on the wild west coast, there is a whole new set of sights, sounds, and smells he’s never encountered before.
What is he thinking, my little tripod katten?
When first he ventured out the cat flap, he stopped dead on the other side, staring around him in wonder. His eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened. He was hesitant to go any farther until twenty-year-old Tyler came out to show him the way. That was yesterday, and now I can barely get him to come back inside, even for his breakfast.
What is he thinking, my little tripod katten? His long fur resists the coastal cold and damp as he turns in all directions.
What does he hear? What does he see?
What does he hear? A bird? A mouse? The wind rustling the sword fern and huckleberry? All I hear is a chain saw, the refrigerator running, my fingers clacking the keys of my laptop.
What does he see in that filagree of leaves and branches? Is there a nest somewhere among the tangles? Does another cat roam nearby?
What does he smell on the beach breeze? Fish? Seaweed? The vastness of the ocean itself?
What might it be like to have such hyperawareness?
Now Clarence has finally come back inside, his curiosity about the wild things fulfilled for the time being. He climbs the couch using his front claws, skitters across me and my keyboard (mmmmmmmmmmmmpppppppp) and crawls into his heated bed for a well-deserved nap.
One tired kitten.
One tired kitten
*Catio: a cat patio, enclosed for the cats’ safety.
