Walking the ... Cat

This morning I saw a young chap, all done up in combat pants and a “hoodie” walking a dainty tortoiseshell cat on a lead. The wee cat didn’t seem to mind at all, wandering along, stopping to sniff stuff, sitting and looking around. Most unlike our own furry girls.
We tried to introduce the whole harness & lead thing to Small when she was a dainty young thing. She just hunkered down and, somehow, made herself really, really heavy. There was no way she was going to cooperate, ever.
Our efforts with Pingu have been slightly more successful. Kind of.
When young she wore her harness (sans lead) when she went outside, she got quite excited when we picked it up because it meant “outside time”. The harness gave us something to grab hold of when it was time to go back inside. She’s so dainty we didn’t want to grab too hard, in case we broke her. Mr Brown with his big manly man hands was particularly conscious of this. And for me, well, trying to grab hold of Ping is like playing chasey/catchy with a lump of quicksilver, she slips through your fingers.
Nowadays catching Ping is not a problem, I just call “treats, treats, treats” in this wildly-embarrassing, high-pitched, lunatic way, she comes a running.