You know, instead of being concerned about the furball, I wish I’d stopped long enough to get the camera and take his freaking picture. But no, I saw him there, balancing on the top of the bathroom door, all four paws clenching maniacally to the bare inch and a half of space on which he had to balance, and instead of running for the camera, I reacted to the look of total panic in his eyes and rescued him.

Mr. Intelligence, the cat who learned in 1.4 minutes how to turn the bathroom lights on and off, whose sense of spacial orientation is such that he was able to deduct that his nose was the size of one of my nostrils and tested it for fit, many times, and who wrote his own book, thought it would be a nifty idea to jump from the dresser to the top of the door.

No, I don’t think he considered how he was going to get down if I hadn’t been there. I’m not entirely sure what he was thinking, other than “Gee, I could jump that high…”

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