Sep 29, 2020 3 min read

One night last week my husband woke me up, saying I kept shaking my hand and smacking him. I replied that something was biting me. As I came further to consciousness, I realized the strangeness of the statement I had made.

Shaking off sleep, I looked down and saw one of our barn cats was lying on my chest and biting my hand.

“Where did you come from?” I asked the cat.

He didn’t answer me, so I scooped him up and walked downstairs. It was freezing in the house, which seemed odd as well. As I made it to the bottom step, I saw our dog’s eyes peek over the arm of the couch.

“How did you get in here?” I asked him, too. He isn’t housebroken, so we only let him in when we are up to watch him.

He didn’t answer me either, so I called him to the back door and carried the cat there as well. The back door was standing wide open, explaining the frigid temperatures in the house. I gently tossed the cat outside and shooed the dog out behind him before shutting the door again. I also made a mental note to talk to my daughter about properly latching the door when she comes home from work.

The following morning, I heard noises downstairs.

I tiptoed down the steps before seeing a different barn cat in the hallway, eating from my daughter’s cat’s bowl. Again, as I made it to the bottom, our dog made his presence known in the living room. Again, as I shooed them outside, the door was open. I realized then that something else was happening besides improper door latching.

I shut the door tightly before walking away. While making my coffee, I heard a creaking noise, and I walked quietly over to investigate.

As I peeked out the window, I saw my dog sitting on his rump, leaning backwards into the door. He was using his front paws for leverage and lifting his back feet off the ground, pivoting on his behind. His leg muscles were shaking from the effort, and then he rocked one more time and thumped his head into the door.

Much to my surprise, it popped open.

He looked over his shoulder, as if to invite any neighborhood cats inside, and then walked into the mudroom. He looked up at me and his tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth in what could only be described as a Cheshire Cat grin on his face.

“Did you see that?” he seemed to say, suddenly interested in a conversation with me.

I’ve seen him attempt to break in a couple more times since then, but with the deadbolt locked, he has zero chance of success. We couldn’t even be angry with him, both because of how smart he must be to have figured it out, and also because of how bright his eyes looked when he succeeded. He has been so sad since our older dog died and it was nice to see a glimpse of our happy boy again.