First thing this morning, I'm brushing my teeth and I hear scratching sounds. I look out in the bedroom and see my boys scratching in that litterbox way at some of Oz's clothes left lying on the floor. Because the floor is a clothing receptacle for some people, you see.
The clothes had been peed on. Augh! And this just a few days from the institution of juicy breakfast. The ingrates!
The clothes were thrown into the washing machine.
This is how I started the day. Okay, I had coffee too and while I was getting my brain going, I considered how my cats are generally well behaved about their toilet habits. What this pee episode meant was that their old box, despite the regular litter changes, had gotten ammoniated and must be replaced. Like, now.
For my morning break I ran out to the pet supply place and get a new litter box. I tell you, litter boxes are getting fancier all the time, but I really just wanted a plain old rectangular one with a cover. Those are hard to find among the electronic-this, sifter-that, and domed-the-other-thing.
Juicy breakfast is the vet's idea. I had Sparky in for shots and a diet consultation, because he's over sixteen pounds now and I don't want to deal with a diabetic cat who needs insulin shots twice a day. Also, it's pitiful to see him try to hop up on a windowsill and fall off. The vet said give him "soft food" and stuck by it even when I accused him of trying to buy Sparky's love. (When did people start referring to canned food as "soft food"? Soft food sounds like something you give an invalid.) At my house, the cats get crunchy food and juicy food. Now I'm phasing out the crunchy and they do love their juicy breakfast. If only they were grateful enough to learn semaphore as a means to communicate their toilet issues.
Then.
I went out in the backyard this afternoon to see if my new herbs were dead yet and I found one of my lavenders uprooted and lying on its side. "Argh! Who did that?" I cried and local friendly cat Drooly (drools when he's happy, hence the name) hopped over the fence and scampered over to say "Hi" and wallow enthusiastically among the lavenders. Well, that answers that. I scooped the cat out of the lavender bed, replanted my lavender, and then watered everything! No more dust bath for the kitty.
Cats.
421 words | May 2, 2006 09:37 PM | Felis Major