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Half an inch. That's all it takes to keep Pete trapped in my room.
I leave the door open a little so the cats can come and go as they please (unless it's sleepy tiems and then the door is shut because my bed becomes a racetrack at 4AM and I have enough trouble sleeping without a cat banking off of my head to make a turn). If the door isn't open enough, Stella will contort herself to fit through the crack (as the biggest cat in the house, this amuses me). Spot will actually work to pull the door open more so she can slip through.
But not Pete.
Pete will look at the door and then look at me and then look at the door and then twitch her tail like a pissed off squirrel. And then I get up, open the door a half an inch wider and she darts through like that tiny increment made all the difference in the world.
Truly, mine is a diva cat.
I leave the door open a little so the cats can come and go as they please (unless it's sleepy tiems and then the door is shut because my bed becomes a racetrack at 4AM and I have enough trouble sleeping without a cat banking off of my head to make a turn). If the door isn't open enough, Stella will contort herself to fit through the crack (as the biggest cat in the house, this amuses me). Spot will actually work to pull the door open more so she can slip through.
But not Pete.
Pete will look at the door and then look at me and then look at the door and then twitch her tail like a pissed off squirrel. And then I get up, open the door a half an inch wider and she darts through like that tiny increment made all the difference in the world.
Truly, mine is a diva cat.
