Clifford (RB) was indifferent to most human food, but passionate about
cold sliced turkey, which we bought for him.  There was a time or two it
was not brought out in time, and I'd have a cat leap to the shelf next
to the meat drawer.

It was fairly clear that he understood the principle by which the door
of the refrigerator opened, but he never found a position from which he
had the right angle and leverage. The message came across, however, when
he'd s-t-r-e-t-c-h against the door (and he was a LOOONG cat), pound his
front paws against it, and give the Special Poultry Meow.

Now that's something that I have to confess to actually doing. I went
to take a coke out of the fridge, Sammy went in, and I shut her
inside. Luckily, I realised something was wrong right away. Even when
she doesn't want to play fetch, she always shows up when I open a
bottle.

LOL! Frank often tries to get into the fridge, but so far, he hasn't
made it.

When my parents, my sister, and I moved back to Nashville in 1976, my
father refused to have home airconditioning for the first couple of
years (he changed his mind after his books started to mildew).
During that first year back, my parents adopted Tinkerbelle, a silver
tabby kitten whom I found as a seriously-wounded stray on the Belmont
College campus.  Her tail had gangrene due to a car-fan injury, and
had to be amputated.  Once she recovered, she became a full-scale
hoolikitten.

On one hot, stick summer morning, during this no-airconditioning
period, I opened the refrigerator to get something out.  Tinkerbelle
hopped into the refrigerator and curled up on top of the watermelon
on the bottom shelf, purring.  She was obviously happy to have found
somewhere that wasn't hot, and wasn't happy about promptly being
lifted back out ot the refrigerator.

Tinkerbelle became an Eldredge family member, and lived for 15 years.
We let her have one litter of kittens before having her fixed, and
gave one of her daughters to my uncle.  Twelve years or so later,
when my uncle died, we adopted the daughter-cat back again and named
her Kentucky Belle.  So, my cat Annabel Lee (now RB) was following
the same tradition of having "Bell" in the name.  My current cat was
named Cinders by her former owner, and I decided to keep the existing
name.

I'm totally paranoid about appliances and the furkids.  I keep all the doors
closed too, but still do a "heads in" check before starting anything up,
because if there is a way to sneak by me and get into something, at least 2
of them will try it.

Mike
The early bird gets the worm;
but the 2nd mouse gets the cheese!!
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/skippymjp/my_photos

"Christina Websell" <spamfree@tinawebsell.wanadoo.co.uk> had some very
interesting things to say about Re: Kitten Survives Washing Machine:

The time my mother almost washed a cat, she had loaded the machine,
then been called away and she left the lid up [I think it was the
phone, and this would have been early 1970s, pre-answering machine].
The machine was a top-loader, and the cat apparently decided that
either something in there required her to investigate it or that that
pile of clothes looked like a good nap spot.

My mother *still* checks the laundry machinery for stowaways before
starting it. :-)

Not stupid at all. I keep the dishwasher closed except when loading or
unloading, just about have to since I have a small kitchen and can't
open the fridge with the dishwasher open. The problem with Sam is that
she has to supervise everything, and any open door is an invitation to
climb in.

Tweed wrote:

A dishwasher loads from the front and has about a two by two foot door
in the front of the machine.  It swings down on a hinge that's about
one and a half feet from the floor and forms a shelf that's just right
to hop up on to inspect the interior. The dish racks slide out on
rollers for loading and if you turn your back to get a few dishes from
the sink, there's just enough time for a kitty to climb in.

I always shoo the kitties out of the kitchen when I'm loading, but I
check the interior before I start it.

Regards and Purrs,
O J