Catlock

 
We live in the (too-much-) Information Age, which means most of us lived through the Space Age, which regrettably seems to be almost over, except for military purposes. (What a run-on sentence!) But that means virtually every resident of an industrialized nation, certainly any that have engaged in human space flight, knows what an airlock is. Well, Stella has contrived a catlock: the back door of the house leads into a tiny utility/laundry room; a sliding wooden door leads from that room into the den. Thus, in theory, are people permitted to go in and out of the house, but cats are not... including Esther, who will be spayed as soon as she shows the least sign of heat, and who is the primary motivator for the catlock.

The only problem is that Stella does not trust me to work the catlock properly, and since I have to go out to a doctor's appointment today, she has penned up the kitties in a bedroom. It seems a drastic solution to me, but then again, so do most of the doors barring my daily passage through the house into and out of, oh, say, the office, the bedroom where my clothes are stored, my bathroom, etc. It makes me feel less welcoming toward the new kitties. Pity!

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Back from the doc. Catlock worked exactly as intended. Now to release the kitties...