The Quest for Sleep, part 2

We made a decision on how to discipline Quincy, and it was not a light decision. We deliberated for a few days, all the while receiving fewer and fewer hours of sleep because of his...loving nature.

You may mock us (feel free, I do it often) and you may think it's overkill, but when I reveal the outcome, you also may be shocked.

I know a lot of people who think cats are dumb animals, and while they do some stupid things, because of this bundle of furry energy in our midst every day, I now believe cats are quite smart, and cunning when they need to be. Quincy has actually turned out to be a problem solver (more on that later). And he knows things, like the sound of Kyle's car engine as compared to mine or the equally-sporty truck across the street. Whenever he hears Kyle's car, he runs to the door in anticipation of some fun.

Our decision for discipline for him was to purchase a child-proof gate to put up in our hall, so as to afford him some space for nighttime roaming, while keeping him far enough away from us that we wouldn't hear his cries of protest (he hates, like most cats, being confined for any reason). But see, because I know this cat, I know how smart he is, we decided to purchase two gates and to stack them. No matter how tall (even if labeled "TALL" by the manufacturer), Quincy would outsmart the gate. He would use the couch as a springboard and launch himself, however precariously, across the divider.

I bought one "tall" wooden gate and one normal-sized plastic gate. Last night was our first attempt at sound sleep. I was really excited at the prospect because I'm exhausted. I need some respite from the little dude's night roaming and cuddling and playing.

The setup was normal plastic gate on bottom, big wooden gate on top. As we lay in bed, I remember saying to Kyle that I felt as if we'd wake up to the all-too-familiar scratching at the door because I had an inkling Quincy would bust these gates down to get to "his people." We laughed and quickly passed out.

I woke up somewhere around 3:30a (the usual time, these days) and strained my ears for signs of struggle outsider our closed bedroom door. I couldn't make out any distinct sounds (distorted as they were by the fan in our room). All of the sudden I heard a CRASH!!, and my heart pounded ferociously....He didn't. Seconds later, shhh....shhh.....shhh....shhhh. Kyle awakened with a "no he didn't....how did he do that?!"

Investigation revealed that he'd plowed through the lower gate (it's plastic), probably with a running start from the kitchen. Kyle attempted to reset the gates and tossed the cat over them.

It couldn't have been more than an hour and a half when I heard a thump! And the soft scratching followed. We both went out that time, completely incredulous. Kyle had only left the "tall" gate up and Quincy had, indeed, used the couch (which is several feet away) as a launching point for propelling himself clear of the gate and into our sanctuary. Stupid, brilliant cat!

This time we ratcheted up the gates' staying pressure, kept the heftier wooden gate on bottom, and did our best to secure the flimsy plastic gate on top. We went back to bed shaking our heads. Meanwhile, Quincy was furious.

I'm not sure I ever went back to sleep. I could heard muffled cries through the door for a while after the second banishment, and honestly, we both felt badly for doing this. Which is insane. The cat, truly, is ruling the roost here.

Tonight, we will try again. Or, perhaps we will rethink this. Surely, if we locked him in a room, he couldn't open a door, could he?