This door. This fucking door. Ten minutes ago, I had come inside to check if any new food had appeared in my bowl. It hadn't. And now this thick block of wood dares to block my exit. Just great. Right, time to find the ape ... there he is. Sitting motionless and staring at that box with flickering lights again. Well, I know how to deal with that sort of thing.

"Murr." I rub against his legs, then look up at him, seeing if he's caught the hint. He reaches down and scratches my head. Not bad, but this time that wasn't the message. I walk a few steps toward the corridor and mew again. He claps his palms on his thighs. No, damn it, I do not want to be petted while warming your lap. Not for another couple hours, anyway. "Meowww!" Hopefully he caught the note of exasperation this time.

Hey, it seems to have worked. He got up and started following me. I lead him to the offending door and stare at the doorknob meaningfully. He sighs and points his forelimb in the direction opposite the door. Twenty paces away, there lies ... the terrace door. No change there. Wonder what he meant. Anyway, he seems to be finally opening the door for me. I rush out towards the garden hedge for a very satisfying bowel movement. Much better. Casually, I stroll around the house, then enter through the flap in the terrace door. Still no fresh food in my bowl, and the door opposite me is closed yet again. Apparently the primate responds poorly to my efforts of conditioning. When will he learn that I need to have a straight-line unimpeded passageway through the house?