This morning I let Bella outside for the first time in six months. She stood on the doorstep for a good 30 seconds, poking her head this way and that, meowing faintly. She finally took a few steps outside and walked down the back stairs almost to the yard. But then turned right around and scratched at the door to get back inside.

I don't understand. She used to spend 10-12 hours a day outside, loving every second. Now she doesn't want to touch dirt with a ten foot pole. There's only one word for this....FRAIDYCAT.