I perceive myself as a lady, a delicate flower, a feather-light being who flows through the world like a gentle breeze. So I’m not likely to engage in discussions about crass and vulgar topics. I keep my bathroom habits private. Well, I used to, until recent developments made it impossible. But I assure you, my little rosebuds, that there are no gross landmines ahead in this post.
You see, dear reader, in recent weeks, my aim has not been true. I’ve been colouring outside of the lines. According to PetMD, there are six possible reasons for my behavior:
- Illness. A trip to the vet eliminated this concern.
- An unclean box. This is not a problem. Mother is vigilant.
- A hard-to-reach litter box. Why would anyone make a litter box hard to reach? What kind of monsters would do such a thing? Again, not my jam.
- Type of litter. This has not changed. Not an issue.
- Multiple pets in the home. I’m a solo cat and no one’s bullying me.
- Stress and anxiety. What do I have to be stressed about? It’s not as if I’ve lived in four different homes within a year… oh wait. I have!
First, my people determined the best course of action was the purchase of – horror of horrors – puppy training pads. Can you imagine? They placed beneath my feet the same materials used to catch the wee-wee of filthy baby dogs. However, my mishap rate did not improve and the pads are only mildly helpful. Last week, they took a more drastic step and remodeled my bathroom. It is Mother who generally cleans up the messes I unwittingly leave. But it was Father who purchased my new commode.
Their logic is obvious. One entry and exit location plus walls too high to pee over. Clever. Father concluded that my poor aim was a matter of incorrect depth perception. (He always defaults to kindness when it comes to me!) The regular, rectangular pan with low sides did nothing to stop the offending wee from leaving its intended target.
I wouldn’t dare hurt their fragile feelings by rejecting their carefully considered alterations to my private thinking place. After all, is it I who clutches the scoop, pours the litter and washes the floor with Urine-B-Gone? Nay! Therefore, I must show courtesy and understanding for their wishes to improve my surroundings and reduce their efforts on my behalf.
After replacing my repository, my people watched me with high anticipation. They showed a disturbing amount of interest in my initial deposits. Like their insistence on photographing my every expression, their scrutiny of my bathroom habits must be tolerated, if not encouraged. I’m happy to report that for now, the problem is solved. Should a kitty in your life exhibit similar behavior, please refer to the PedMD list above because you never know with cats. We don’t like to complain!
Congrats, Miss Sugar!