I just moved with my sole remaining cat, Fungus, to an apartment in an urban area. Bringing a cat to a new home can be an interesting experience. The move has proven to be a mixed blessing as far as Fungus is concerned. On the one paw, he no longer lives in a multi-cat household; but on the other paw, his access to the great outdoors is rather limited.

His first big adjustment to city life was learning how to sleep. At my sister's house he had been spoiled, she closed him in a darkened bedroom every day. Now when Fungus wants to sleep he bugs me until I go into the bedroom, turn off the lights and make it completely dark. Since my apartment consists of two rooms, neither of which is a bedroom, this has proven rather awkward.

Then there is the outdoor issue. He had access to the outdoors anytime he wanted at my sister's place. I tried letting him go onto the window boxes. Dirt, fresh air, dead plants, what more could a cat want? It turns out that four square feet of garden is not enough to satisfy a young, active cat. Who would ever have suspected? Then I tried cat toys, fake mice, etc. He was happy for about fifteen minutes.

OK, the next step was to let him roam the halls. That worked for awhile. Then he forced a door open and terrorized one of the other tenants. They were terrified he would get their apartment "dirty." And if this weren't enough, he took to howling every time I let him in the hall. Obviously the neighbours were not going to appreciate this. Some other tactic was required.

So I started showing him the way to the outside door. It's down a hall, a flight of stairs, another hall and another flight of stairs. A long journey for a shy cat. We got a few feet further every day before he would bolt back to the apartment. A truck going by, a tenant opening a door-any noise at all would send him running. Eventually we got to the side door. Aned shortly thereafter, the back yard.

Heaven. Yes, the Fungster was very happy. He began eating grass and vomiting it up almost instantly, clearly a skill that has to be practiced regularly. I was sorry I didn't have any slippers for him to practice on. He said he would catch them some other time. His first actual outdoor excursion lasted almost ten minutes before a scary noise forced him to retreat. Still, we continued. Every day I would walk him to the door and let him roam for awhile.. Soon he got almost casual about it. While the front of the building is an urban kitty nightmare, the back yard is an overgrown mass of weeds and bushes. Cat territory to be sure.

After a week of cat escorting I decided he was ready for a solo flight, since the neighbours were beginning to make comments. I took him out, propped the side door open, and went back upstairs to my apartment. I figured he would be gone for hours exploring the neighborhood. But no, ten minutes later he came tearing into the aprtment like the hounds of hell were after him. He ran right under the bed and began hissing furiously. Moments later his nemisis charged into the apartment. A giant dog? A huge fierce tomcat? An enraged neighbor with cat hair on their rug? No, it was a kitten. A very tiny, very nice kitten, who desperately wanted to play with Fungus. I was embarrassed to say the least. There was my twelve pound cat cornered under the bed by a two pound kitten. Sigh. I guess Fungus needs testosterone pills or something.

At least I don't need to worry about him hassling any of the neighbors cats.