My teenager

Be warned: this is a post about cats.

I have two cats: Nutmeg and Emerald. Their personalities are quite different. Nutmeg loves laps and the indoors. She is nosy about what other people are doing. She is my homebody.

Emerald, by contrast, avoids human contact as much as possible. Most of the affection she receives is against her will. If people approach her, she'll generally run off to be on her own. When I arrive home from work, she runs out the door to explore the outdoors. She appears to take pleasure is bullying the less attractive cat who lives around the corner.

I first started letting Emerald out on her own about one year ago. Back then, Emerald was nervous about every sound and footstep. She got herself lost on several occasions and came running back indoors for safety. After a few months, she became much more comfortable with the outdoors. She started eating out with friends (lizards and grass, yum!) and would disappear for periods of time. She rarely would tell me where she was going and would run off if I tried to join her. Going out has become her favorite hobby. If I am home, she is begging to leave. I should have taken all these observations as important warning signs, but now it is official. Emerald is a teenager.

Emerald learned how to open the screen door to my second floor balcony. At first I didn't consider this to be much of an issue. She explored the balcony and visited my neighbor. One day, when the front door was closed, Emerald took it upon herself to jump onto my balcony ledge and leap to the ground two stories below her. This feat apparently scared her so badly that she immediately ran back to the door to be let in. As a teacher, I especially love natural consequences, and I thought for sure she had learned her lesson.

A couple of months after this incident, I went away to Houston for an extended weekend. I left the sliding glass door open to allow some fresh air into the apartment. Nutmeg and Emerald were safe indoors with my electronic feeder to keep them well. When I arrived home, late on Sunday, a surprise sat crying at my door. Emerald had decided to run away again and got herself locked out for much longer than she'd bargained for. According to my neighbors, she had been outside for nearly two days. Naughty, naughty Emerald.

A few days later, as I was falling asleep, I heard the light sound of tap-tap-tap-whack-whack-whack-tap-tap-tap-squeak. My darling Emerald was opening up the screen door. She must have known I was awake, because she came back inside. However, when morning came, Emerald was waiting outside my front door. She sulked inside with the squinty-eyed look of a girl who had spent the night partying. She lay down on the couch and covered her face the best she could, repeatedly glaring at us for making too much noise.

As if this wasn't bad enough, I have learned that the troublesome male stray that roams the apartment complex has become an admirer of Emerald. Just the other day I heard a ruckus outside, only to see this guy (who we refer to as "Black and White Cat") waiting down below my balcony. A coworker commented that I should worry about Emerald coming home pregnant one day. Lucky for me, I was proactive and had her reproductive organs removed when she was still a young girl. Don't you parents out there sometimes wish you had that option for your children?