This is George the Greenhouse cat. He is grumpy, perhaps incensed, as he recognizes once again, my inability to open the damn locked door for him. His ticket to coolness, water and breakfast. This morning he digs his claws into my thigh. A love tap no doubt. I discover running tights are no barrier to his 'affection'. My response, immediate and vocal, made it very clear that I was a lost cause in George's attempt to persuade me.