The Catbox (These Beasts Be Bitches!)

The word "bitch" is the actual, official, and perfectly acceptable term for a canine of the female variety. My dog, Brandi, in no uncertain terms is 100%... a bitch. However, when used in the more profane and offensive version, the term also perfectly applies to my cat.

I only got up for a second!
Kitty napping in my kitchen/computer chair

We've had her for eight years, and I guess it's time for me to let her grow up. She's small but she's no Spring Kitten anymore. I don't know when it happened, but at some point recently, she lost her sweet little daintiness. I mean, the beast pees like a horse! Gone is the time when the catbox could ride three or four days before becoming an issue. But like Dylan said "The times, they are a'changin" and Kitty has no problem humming me a few bars every now and then.

It all starts with me telling you about my new favorite brand of kitty litter that totally kicks ass! You just never know how much clump action you need, until you experience the best of what clump action has to offer. The wet stuff clumps solid and stays solid. It doesn't fall apart during cleanup, the clump takes it all, leaving the remaining litter fresh.

But here's where we fall into trouble. Kitty pees as close to the side of the box as possible, and don't forget, she pees like a horse. After three or four potty breaks, the sides are used up, and the sandy litter is now morphing into rock.  There's little place to scratch and dig, and if Kitty can't scratch and dig, then there is something definitely wrong here, Lady. The ship is goin' down... it's every animal for himself... or herself as the case may be.

She will protest this assault by leaving her next puddle on the floor directly in front of the human toilet. Hey, you have a place to pee, I need a place to pee. It usually gets discovered by a groggy human first thing in the morning, who is totally not prepared for the sopping up, the mopping up, the disinfecting, and the possibility of having to take down and wash the curtain that divides the bathroom from the laundry closet. That's why the first morning human usually just covers it with a wad of paper towels so I don't step in it when I get up.

I have to admit, there are times when the humans still aren't motivated to clean the box right away, after such a subtle hint. When that happens, she could do one of two things. She could repeat the procedure, or she could escalate to something a little more passive aggressive, and drop her next puddle in a place where it simply cannot be ignored... under my chair in the kitchen, where I sit with my laptop. Okay... Enough! Message received!

At least we finally found a way to keep the other beast from dining in the catbox buffet. First you push the catbox all the way to the back corner of the closet. Then you prop the ironing board against the washing machine and lean it toward the closet wall. This creates a canopy, preventing the dog from just hopping over the large Coleman lunch cooler that you shove in front of the catbox, and wedge between the washing machine and the wall, preventing her from just diving in head first.

...Oh, and while you have the box out, sweep up all the litter that she's kicked out onto the floor. Hec, you might as well just sweep the whole bathroom. Scoop the clumps (and such) into the trashcan. Then take it out and replace that bag. Pull out the vacuum (which the Princess assuredly left upstairs again), and clean up all that you've swept. Put the puzzle back together again...

As you can imagine, the process this makes it that much easier, and motivates us that much more, to clean the box on a regular basis.

Holy Irony, Batman! As I sit here typing, Kitty has just puddled on the bathroom floor again! But I just cleaned the box last night! That could only mean one thing...

This is a food protest.

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