I regret I don't remember who it was, but when Ding disappeared for a
week not too long ago, one of our posters from Oz described the event as
his having gone walkabout. The term is most descriptive and I've been
using it.

Since his return, Ding has been very skittish, probably not helped by
the house call from TED. He's been distant, and we have had considerable
debates about the advisability of using litterboxes.  

In the last day or so, however, he's clearly been coming out to be
friendly, and started to want to be petted. Last night, he even came
upstairs to the bedroom, well after Mr. Clark and Rhonda were happily
esconced, and wanted some low-intensity cuddling. He also relearned
about cat treats, placed in his mouth with an appropriate mutter of "the
Body of Bast."

About 6 AM this morning, I awakened with...ahem...an urge to visit my
litterbox.  Slowly I moved, turning on the light, ungluing my eyelids.  

Ding apparently was downstairs. I heard some approaching thumps, clearly
coming from the stairwell. My eyes opened enough to see him fly through
the air onto the landing. Not in smooth cat dashes but in hops of
increasingly high altitude, he took several more leaps and landed
purring on the bed.

Has he decided he is a catgaroo?