My son, David, says very little to me, and when he does, he speaks in monosyllables. A couple of weeks ago, he came in through the front door and said “cat”. Just one word. I had no idea what he meant. Then he said, “In the house.”
We have this porch, an outer wooden door and an inner door made of glass panels with about four feet between. The arrangement is designed to stop our precious heat from escaping. The inner porch door was closed. David opened it and a cat ran into the house, ducked into the living room and leapt onto my chair. It looked comfortable. It looked as if it belonged there, in my chair, as if it lived in our house and had just popped out for a few minutes.