Anatomy of Training a Moron Cat

About two years ago, I was subjected to getting a cat.  My daughter wanted a kitten.  She cajoled, pleaded, agreed to do all the dirty work, and voila, a kitten was obtained after Christmas of 2012.  Incidentally, HIM, the man to whom I'm married and the instigator of the kitten incident, is the one who actually cleans up the litter box.


He wasn't really laughing at me.
I caught him mid-yawn, which
makes for good caption fodder.

The kid named the cat Megaroy, a fact I still don't comprehend the reasons why.  I consequently determined that the cat, which is some kind of Maine Coon mix, is stupid.  I've blogged about my reasoning and I won't repeat them.  See My Daughter's Cat is a Moron and My Daughter's Moron Cat.  (I actually had to write more than one blog about the cat, so go figure.)

Once we moved, the cat determined that he loves the enclosed porch and wants to go out there all the time.  Winter, summer, spring, fall.  (Not so much when it's raining.  It might get his dainty, wootsie footsies wet and that's icky poo.)  Being pushovers we leave the door cracked.


Looking out the cat door at the
cat lying on the porch.
This is pretty much his
every waking moment position,
except when he's pooping.
I try not to watch that part.

Then this winter, HIM has decided that it shall be no more.  HIM went to Petsmart, forked over some moolah, and purchased a pet door, replete with flaps.  HIM installed the door, not on the door itself, but in the wall in between the inside and outside.  He only had to cut part of a stud and engage in some bright new colorful language to get the job done.  There.  The pet door is there.

Here you can see where HIM had to cut
part of a stud.  Oh what fun, knowing
that a stud has been cut to allow
the poop-for-brains cat to go and
come as is his want from the porch.
You can pretty much deduce what
the cat is thinking at this moment.
"I can still get the humans to
open the door."

Before he bought the pet door I said, "The cat is too stupid to learn how to use it."

After the door was installed, I said, "See."

HIM decided to get determined.  He put food on the opposite side of the door.  Nothing.

HIM shoved the cat through.  Nada.

HIM pleaded with the cat.  No how.

Finally HIM took the flaps off the door.  The cat had a little, itty-bitty-itsy light bulb appear over his moronic head.  *PING!*  I can goz through to the porch!

Wait until HIM puts the flaps back on.

Okay I had to slam the poor skater girl with the wretched luck
to have a camera guy right in her face when she made
this face.