Clive Grey: Journal Entry #12, 1/15/03
I just got back from putting clothes into the dryer downstairs. Ford has been more insistent about being allowed to explore the hallway lately. He’s seen the elevator doors open and he backs up, but does not run away. I wondered if Ford would fancy a trip down with me. I took him in my arm along with the coins for the dryer and our keys, then carried him over to the elevator. Curiously he sniffed about as the elevator doors opened, stepping into the elevator we could detect a drop in temperature and I became worried that Ford might be overwhelmed by our approach to the ground floor and incumbent outdoor winter. Can cat senses detect decreasing altitude? When magic elevator doors re-open, we are no longer on the fourth floor. Ford’s claws dig a little deeper into my shoulder. Considering it from his point of view, we had been utterly transported into a big cold room with a glass wall revealing more midnight mystery than any agoraphobic little kitty should have to bear. As we walked out of the elevator I held him tighter and spoke comforting words. We turned the corner and Ford let out a mournful wail of such unanticipated volume, I became both alarmed and embarrassed. Like a piece of star weighs so unbelievably much for its size, so the second cry of woe to escape Ford’s tiny cat mouth was so disproportionately loud I turned and ran him back to the elevator. His continued cries were an organic car alarm, reverberating along the acoustics enhancing hallways of my apartment building.
All the way up in the elevator, a scream for every floor.
He jumps away when the elevator opens back on four.
Fluffy tailed with alarm he runs over to our door.
How long till Ford, wants to go out once more?