Until today.
The other cats never so much as glanced at the pigs when they were in the tote before. I mean, this is a bi-monthly occurrence. And I've never bothered to cover the tote (mostly because it has plastic walls and I do worry about air circulation) whilst I'm out scrubbing down the big cage. But I came back inside today, dripping wet and sweaty to find this:

Ken!
Now obviously, I wasn't too concerned since the first thing I reached for was a camera and not the cat. But I did get a kick out of the oh-so-casual way he was just kind of sticking his paw through the door of the igloo. "What? Me, doing something wrong? No, no, no. You misunderstand. I was merely saying hello."
Brat.
I pulled him out.
He jumped right back in.
I pulled him out again.
Again he jumped back inside, defiance clearly written across his little gray face.
I pulled him out again.
He plops down right beside the tote with this heavy, put upon kitty sigh. Like I just don't understand him or something. But I'm okay with that because it means I can finish putting the big cage back together without worrying someone is going to get "played" with.
Sheesh... Teenagers!
(For the record, after I had the two piggers back in their real cage, I let Ken roll around in the tote for as long as he pleased. He has now forgiven me and is sleeping quite peacefully on the desk in front of me). *smiles*