Nysse and I are now taking physio-approved leashed walks. Walking a cat is, well, not like walking a dog. There is not very much walking involved, really. Initially Nysse toured a part of the garden, perhaps to check that no other cat had taken over his territory. But then he saw a squirrel in the neighbours’ yard, and that was that. The rest of the “walk” he spent crouching in the bushes, watching the squirrel, dearly wishing he could go there and show it who’s boss.

We’ve both had to learn how to handle the leash. I’ve learned to keep slight tension in it when needed, to remind Nysse that it’s there, so he doesn’t suddenly pounce. He’s learned that there are places where we will not go. Like under the neighbour’s fence, for example.

All in all, it’s going pretty well. He’s happy about it, and not pulling on the leash as much as he initially did. And he much prefers peeing outdoors to using the litterbox, which of course makes life easier for me as well.