September 25, 2018
This morning I shared the shower with a man that wasn’t my husband. And it wasn’t by my choice, either.
Frankie, the not-the-favorite pet (I Didn’t Sign Up for This!) is a jumper. When he was a kitten he had enormous feet. We were sure he would grow up to be a twenty-pound cat. But, he didn’t. He grew up to be a ten-pound cat with really big feet. A light body weight + big feet = Very High Jumping Abilities.
This cat can jump, straight up, over six-feet. I know this because I’ve had to remove pictures from the wall that he was jumping up from the floor to swat at. (Most cats like to shove things off of flat surfaces; soda cans, vases, knickknacks, etc. Frankie also likes to swat things off walls which is why I have bare spots on my walls pictures should be.) Any wall space that is within his reach when he’s on a flat surface is fair game. There is nothing over our mantle. The cute bird picture that hung in my kitchen fell prey to a swift swat from a Frankie foot off the top of the refrigerator. He even swats at the TV’s that are hung, although, thankfully, he hasn’t been able to knock one of those off the wall. Yet.
About a year ago, Frankie discovered that he could jump from the seat in our shower to the top of the railinig that holds the shower door. Since I’m not very good at describing showers, here is a picture. The top railing is two inches in width.
Once he was on top of the railing, he would walk across it like he was on a balance beam, turn around and jump straight down to the floor. All on 2 inches! It scared the heck out of me every time. I was sure he was going to fall into the shower and hurt himself, or hurt himself on the way down straight to the floor. I don’t know how high shower doors are but I think it has to be at least six feet, if not more.
In order to mitigate the risk, we implemented a two-pronged approach to squelch the jumping. (A bit of my IT background just snuck out there, sorry!)
The first preventative measure was processed based. We simply would close the door to the bathroom at all times. Easier said than done. I kept forgetting and Frankie kept jumping, so I posted signs, on both sides of the bathroom door to remind me.
There is a duplicate sign on the bathroom side of the door, as well.
The second preventative measure we implemented was to purchase a cabinet that would allow Frankie a path down from the railing other than jumping straight down. Unfortunately, that also gave Frankie an easier path UP to the railing.
Once we got the cabinet installed (we had to bolt it to the wall to make sure it was steady when Frankie jumped on it), I upped my vigilance on making sure the bathroom door was closed. Dennis even installed a sensor on the bathroom door to tell us on our smart phones if it’s opened or closed. (I think he got sick of running upstairs to check for me because I could never remember if I closed it or not.)
This has worked well for the past year. As long as I follow the process. There have been a couple of instances when Frankie came into the bathroom while I was putting my make up on and he got up to the railing again. The path down (and up!) works very well.
This morning, I was taking a shower and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. It literally made me jump as I’m not used to things moving in the shower other than me. I looked up and there sat Frankie peering down on me from the top of the railing, with shower spray hitting him. He didn’t seem at all concerned about getting wet. He was too intent on watching me. It wasn’t that loving, your-my-human look, either. It was the judgmental, I-can’t-believe-you-ate-Chick-Fil-A-this-morning look.
I freaked out. I had soap everywhere, including in my eyes, and I’m too short to simply reach up and get Frankie down off the railing. I have to coax him down the path from the outside of the shower. What to do? Call for Dennis to get him down? Too risky. Dennis was downstairs and my yelling could startle Frankie and cause him to fall. Get out all soapy and coax him down? Yeah, possible, but not my first choice. I settled on finishing my shower in record time, keeping eye contact with Frankie the whole time and using my Mom-voice to tell him not to move.
Once I got out, I was able to carefully coax him down (I figured the railing must be slippery because it was wet) with his favorite bath toy, a bath scrunchie. I held one hand up to try to catch him if he fell while he manuvered his way across the railing and down to the cabinet. Whew. All’s well that end’s well, but that wasn’t how I expected my day to start. I guess that’s my penance for eating to Chick-fil-A for breakfast.
I think I’m going to have to post a sign on the shower, too, reminding me to close the bathroom door!