...at about 4:00 every afternoon.
He squeezes through the pickets on the porch...
...and stands at my office door, staring at me until I let him in.
For as eager as Johnny can be for me to open the door, he's still a bit timid about crossing the threshold.
I've been known to pick him up and carry him inside.
Eventually, he'll prowl around from room to room to confirm Smooch isn't in the house.
Johnny: If you left that damned dog in the backyard permanently, I wouldn't be afraid to come in here.
Me: Not gonna happen. You two will just have to learn to get along.
Are all cats this tall when they stand on their hind legs?
Johnny could probably open that door himself if he stretched a little further.
Johnny: No mice in here. Gotta go. Let me out.