Tipper has lost his good reputation around here. Tipper, in case you don’t know, is our new (to us) cat, who just turned one. Here’s his picture.
Aww, innee adorsaboo?
Well, here’s the story — and it does have doors in it.
Our house was built for a couple and four girls, and Charlie and his pals built it. It’s purty big. Not a McMansion, but of a goodly size in two levels. Then the kids — as kids are wont to do — grew up and moved out, and Charlie took one of the bedrooms for his office.
So Charlie decided we’d block off the stairs going up and he hung some old aluminum folding doors he found on a junk heap sommers. It works just fine. Trouble is, it didn’t keep Tipper out. He figured out how to mess with the door until he could jimmy it open with a paw and muscle through the crack.
When he wanted to come down, he’d just muscle it open from the inside.
Then Charlie discovered that Tipper had not invariably succeeded in opening the door when he wanted to. Two of the upstairs beds had been commandeered as makeshift litterboxes. Not one, but two. Because, one assumes, using the same would twice would just be nasty.
So I spent a day washing and drying sheets and quilts and Charlie spent the day installing a makeshift latch on the inside of the doors, so whoever is upstairs can secure it against Tipper.
When we’re both downstairs, we use this handy dowel rod.
Tipper is very melancholy, but not as melancholy as we were, when we found those beds.
This has been (just barely) part of Norm Frampton’s Thursday Doors link-up. Follow the link to Norm’s post, scroll down to the blue frog button, and click it to find some real door pictures, and maybe a little history, too.
I’m being hosted today at Buried Under Books, where I’m talking about Using People For Fun And Profit. [UPDATE: Duh. MAY 23, not March 23. ~sigh~ A mind is a terrible thing to … something. But it’s a rockin’ site, so go there, anyway!]
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write about a makeshift lock