MD, Sharon, yep, both are wearing harnesses and leashes. It’s the only way Mia has ever gotten out, barring a time or two when she rushed a door as it was opening. Happily, she’s always so stunned to have attained liberty that she’s easily corraled again.
When Turk’ was a kitten we started him out with a harness, but as he grew larger and more cantankerous getting him hooked up was a lot like juggling chainsaws, so we started letting him run free.
Bad idea. Should’ve known better, having lost a cat to predators up in Weirdcliffe. Turk’ got in a tangle with something, collected a wound, managed to hide it from us (the Turk’ ain’t exactly cuddly) and developed a nasty abscess that required a $450 trip to the vet.
So, long story short, he’s back in bondage, and we sport the occasional bandage. Oh, the felinity! The felinity!
Libby, I finally found his weak spot. Herself scored some organic cat treats that the Turk’ goes totally gaga over. I sprinkle a few of those bad boys over the floor in front of him and before he knows what hit him he’s all trussed up like a Christmas turkey.