Jail Break

I knew this day would come. My cat has figured out the dog door.

I did a lot of research last fall on dog doors, hoping to find the perfect one. I had my heart set for awhile on an infrared door that opens when a digital code is transmitted from a device attached to a dog's collar. The concept seemed popular among other indoor-cat owners. However, I could not find a single good review for this door. But I found my fill of criticisms. A lot of people reported the door fell apart after only a few months. Sometimes the door would open even if the dog just walked near it. Even more often, though, dogs would try to barrel through the thing so fast the transmitter couldn't send its little digital message to the door fast enough. And so, many a dog ended up clobbering its head against the hard plastic flap (which, knowing Jonas, wouldn't really be an issue. Our mutt feels no pain). Despite the door's good intentions, I even found a review relaying how a dog fell asleep next to the door, allowing the cat to come and go as it pleased.

Unhappy infrared door owners frequently ended their tirades by wishing they had just invested in an electronic dog door. So I investigated that possibility for about five seconds - the time it took me to find the price. Keep in mind we'd recently dumped our entire savings into the down payment of our house. And several reviews showed that door also had problems.

Those two varieties of dog door were the only ones designed to keep indoor cats indoors while allowing a dog free range. It was obvious, then, that we'd have to settle on a standard dog door and install it in the laundry room, which we could close off when the dog door wasn't needed. I soon learned, though, that 99.9% of standard dog doors also had made more than just a few pet owners very, very unhappy.

Then I found this bad boy, which we fondly refer to as "the toilet seat." I couldn't find a single bad review about this door. In fact, I couldn't find any reviews. I took that as a good sign - it hadn't annoyed anyone enough for them to take the time to write a complaint.

What makes it so great is not the fact that it can be locked (which I never do - that just seems cruel, even if my dog does have a thick skull) but that it's a hard rather than soft plastic flap. So it's more difficult for an animal smaller than Jonas to push through. And it's weather proof for all those cold Alabama nights.

Still, I knew it would only be a matter of time before Mazzy would figure it out. She's a smart one. She knows she's not supposed to get on the dining room table but that if the lights are out and we're not around then it's apparently okay. She knows that when I pull a spoon out of the drawer on Sunday night it's time for her to get her weekly tuna. And she knows that if she pushes her empty water bowl around on the tiled bathroom floor then I'll come refill it. On a side note, I wasn't at all worried that my other cat Callie would figure out the dog door. She's content just sitting in the bathroom sink all day under a drippy faucet.

A few weeks ago I called Mazzy for her Sunday-night tuna and she did not come. David automatically looked outside and saw her sitting in the mulch under the crepe myrtle. I stepped outside, she saw the tuna spoon in my hand, and she made a b-line toward the dog door, which she jumped through as if she'd been using it for years. I couldn't really be mad at her. I never told her directly she couldn't use the dog door. And she knows she isn't allowed to go through the human door.

Since then it's been kind of annoying having to keep the interior door of the laundry room constantly shut. Every time Jonas has to go out, we have to get up and open the door for him. It's like not having a dog door at all. I tried to train Mazzy one afternoon that using the dog door was bad by sitting outside with the hose, waiting for her to come exploring. But she just sat in the window watching me.

Mazzy seemed to lose interest, however, so we slowly got back into the habit of leaving the laundry room door open again. We figured that if she did get out there would be no way she'd ever get over our 4-foot picket fence. She can't even clear the small gate we put up inside the house to keep Jonas out of the back room (she's a bit back-heavy). This past week or so has been back to normal, and I haven't had to worry about my declawed cat making a great escape. But like I said, she's smart. And she had a plan.

Last night I was preoccupied with a home improvement project and didn't even notice her slip out. But, being Sunday, it came time to call her for tuna time. But again, she didn't come. I spent about half an hour scouring the neighborhood for her after finding she was not in our yard. It was about 10 p.m. and I was starting to get a little worried as my flashlight batteries were getting low. Finally, I heard her crying and the flashlight caught her two green eyes in our neighbors' yard. She ran up to me, I picked her up, and she clung to me, purring while her little heart beat fast. She never does that. Whenever I hold her she squirms to get away. I was relieved and felt sorry for her, so I didn't scold her. I gave her tuna and some love. And I shut the laundry room door. She spent the rest of the night pawing at it and telling me that she wanted to go back out. The cylon plan makes more sense than hers.

Mazzy now wears her collar. The tag has an outdated phone number on it, so I taped a hand-written (and yes, temporary) note to it that reads, "I'm an indoor kitty! If found please call home!" I think she has a microchip in her future. Oh, and maybe one of these.

I'll be back soon. Gotta go let the dog out.