Tag Archives: harness

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Walkies!

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Yes, it finally happened.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten…. walked. In the harness. On the leash. Of his own accord.

Be still my heart.

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After weeks of useless excursions when all he did was glance at me in disdain…. the other day he suited up and hit the door running.

Well, strolling is more accurate but I’ll take it. No fuss, no fight. He walked across the lawn, around the barn and woodshed, climbed the front stone wall, got tangled up in the bird bath and even lead me over to the apple trees.

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Which he found quite fascinating.

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I was happy to let him sit in the crook of the tree sniffing and scratching the bark, but then before I could react….

Bam!

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The little devil was scrambling up the tree with me still holding the leash. He wouldn’t come down, so I had to go up, and it wasn’t pretty.

Ever try to wrangle a leashed and harnessed cat out of a tree? It’s not a smooth process and I don’t recommend it.

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Upon retrieval, his Lordship was exhausted and happily plopped in the shade. I, on the other hand, examined my scratched arms, broken nail and twig infested hair.

And if that wasn’t bad enough? This morning I woke up with a wicked brown tail moth rash on my neck.

Needless to say we will be giving the apple trees a wide berth from now on.

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He doesn’t seem to understand the concept.

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Cats are clever creatures. So can someone please explain why Lord Dudley Mountcatten doesn’t get on board with walkies?

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He’s wise to the notion that the appearance of the harness means he gets to go outside….

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But once there?

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Walking is not high on the agenda.

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We have a vast yard for his Lordship to explore with numerous flying and scurrying creatures to meet… but no.

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If we get 20 steps out of him per outing, we consider it a win.

🥴

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And we’re (not) walking.

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Lord Dudley was looking stylish as we headed outside to walk.

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And by walk, of course I mean sit.

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My attempts to get his Lordship up and on his feet were not well received.

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After some futile tugging and a bit of cajoling, I did manage to get the little bugger moving…

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But only as far as the deck, where he immediately plopped down under a chair.

Walking the cat….

It’s a process.

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Something a little more stylish.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has a new plaid harness. … and he’s just as thrilled as you might expect.

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The one my husband bought was ridiculously hard to put on and adjust. The one I bought is more like a bra.

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His Lordship stepped right into it without realizing what he was doing.

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But once I fastened it?

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His Lordship was not at all pleased.

The instructions say to let the cat acclimate to it slowly by leaving the harness on for an hour at a time.

We made it exactly 21 minutes. And when I removed it?

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He attacked it with undisguised glee.

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And we’re walking….

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Our second stroll with Lord Dudley Mountcatten happened yesterday….

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And while attaching the harness was still as enjoyable as wrestling a moray eel….

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His Highness didn’t seem quite so angry this time around.

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Of course that didn’t mean he cooperated. Walking a cat is more challenging than you might think.

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To be honest, there’s not a whole lotta walking going on.

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But at least his Lordship got some fresh air.

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So this happened.

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Last week my husband came home from the store with a leash and harness for Lord Dudley Mountcatten. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea… and neither was Lord Dudley Mountcatten.

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Have you ever tried to put a harness on an uncooperative feline? It’s a lot like herding wombats, only bloodier.

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And while his Lordship has wanted to go outside since we got him…

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I doubt this is quite how he envisioned it.

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If looks could kill… we would have been dead on the spot.

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My husband quickly learned that walking a cat requires an infinite amount of patience.

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For every 10 steps Lord Mountcatten walked?

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He spent 10 minutes sitting, biting at the harness and glaring up at us as if to say this contraption is robbing me of my dignity, not to mention my will to live.

Making the decision to keep him housebound was hard, as all our other pets were free to roam outside. But after losing one to a speeding car and then watching Dudley run right for the road the one time he got loose, I was okay with him being under house arrest.

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I mean really, it’s not such a hardship to be waited on hand and foot by your human staff and pampered with an endless supply of catnip.

The whole walking on a leash scenario seems like the ultimate tease to me. A taste of freedom without being free. But the husband thinks it’s wonderful and plans to continue. Time will tell…

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