Trevor, our part time cat, first showed up at our house in the fall of 2002. We call him our part time cat because he’ll show up religiously every day for a few days, and then we won’t see him for 3-4 days at a time.

He mostly comes by for food and drink, although he is a really good snuggler when he finally settles down. He eats like no other cat I’ve ever seen, yet where he puts all that food we’ve never figured out. He’s the only cat we’ve ever had who hasn’t turned into an overweight lump of fur. He’ll clean out the food bowl and then start looking around for any dishes to clean, and he’s great for cleaning up the food the other cats spill on the floor.

His drinking is legendary. I’ve never seen a cat that loved milk as much as this one. He gets so excited about milk that he does a little “Milk Dance” when ever he gets a hint that milk will be served shortly. Whether it’s hearing the fridge open, or seeing me get a bowl out of the cupboard for my morning cereal, he’ll be right at my heels doing his dance.

This love of milk must have been responsible for what finally pushed him over the edge. For nine years now we’ve been trying to get Trevor to come into the house through the cat door. He has the going out part down just fine. In fact when he gets scared (which is often) he manages to fly through the door without a second thought. But no matter how much we cajoled him, bribed him with food, or pushed him through it, he just has never been comfortable with the thought of entering the house though this convenient contraption called the cat door.

You see, Trevor’s never been the brightest cat. In fact he’s picked up the nickname of Captain Slow (with a nod to Top Gear) because sometimes he moves like molasses, taking forever to do things like getting up on the couch. I think he’s always afraid that Meg is lurking around, just ready to beat the crap out of him. He’s kind of a wuss that way.

Every once in awhile, Lori or I will see Trevor in the house and not being the one who let him in, have asked the other just to confirm, “Did you let Trevor in?”

For nine years the answer has always been yes.

Until today. This morning I was getting my usual bowl of cereal ready when Trevor came running into the kitchen. I didn’t realize he was in the house and at the time Lori was taking her shower, so I didn’t think she could have let him in. When she got out I asked her, and for once the answer was a remarkable, “No”!

So finally, after nine years, it appears that Trevor has finally figured out that the door swings both ways. Hopefully he’ll use it more often, especially during the winter.

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but apparently, the same doesn’t hold true for cats.