My cats kinda rule this apartment. They walk on the counters. They climb the walls and scratch up the moulding on doorways. They scratch and howl at Carter's door when he's napping. They open cabinets (circus material? you think?) and sleep on the pots and pans - which, if you ask me, is proof they don't care about comfort ... at this point they just want someone to declare war against them.
But lucky me, I've solicited professional help. I snatched my iPhone so you could catch a snippet of Carter's current life purpose. He does this all day.
As you've seen, I wasn't exaggerating by using the word professional.