Wednesday, December 08, 2004

A litterbox fit for a king.

The cat is limping so we're letting him stay in the house overnight.

This necessitated the purchase of a litter box. I bought a bag of litter equivalent to a night in a Sephoric spa and dumped it elegantly into the box. It smells better than my shower gel.

Unfortunately, our cat is more the outhouse variety and won't go near his Haven de Toilette. He much prefers to pee on the bathroom floor, next to the toilet. You know, where the carpet is still discolored from all those high school boys living here a few years ago. One of them was my son, and I don't even remember the names of some of the others.

Our house was the official Hang-Out House for Teenage Boys in our area. I loved it.

I guess Cat just considers himself one of the boys.

One of the boys, minus nads.

And while the boys wouldn't mind sharing their bathroom poor-aim carpet with Cat, somehow I doubt they'd be willing to share his medical reason for non-reproductive ability, despite the noble lack of contribution to the Feral Cat population on our road.

Whatever. Cat's in the house for tonight, and in the morning that expensive litter will be untouched, and the gross carpet in the big bathroom will be a little more discolored, and I'll have to get out the carpet cleaner and odor neutralizer and that big bathroom scrub brush that's still looking new because even though I bought it last July it's never been used. . . . .

Did I mention that we really, really love this Cat?

Because there are human beings I would not go to all this trouble for.

Shhh, don't let Cat hear me say he isn't a human being. . . .

We're not sure yet why Cat is limping. There's no blood, and his fur is unruffled. Hub thinks maybe a car.

Certain noises in the night hint that there may be bobcats in the vicinity.

There are also possums and raccoons on the deck almost every night, devouring Cat's food.

We know for certain that coyotes have established base camp back in the woods.

A deer might even have kicked him. We have more deer than most state parks.

My guess is, Cat and a raccoon had a tussle over the cat food, and Cat lost.

Except that he's now in the house, living like a king. So maybe Cat won.

I'll ask him his opinion when he wakes from his nap.

Oh yes. Cat loves Fritos. He licks off the salt and then devours the soggy chip.

Hey, it's no worse than the eating habits of some children I've watched.

Also, does anyone else think Brad Pitt is overrated? George Clooney is far better looking, and seems to have a lot more personality.

Don't tell Brad my opinion. I don't want to hurt his feelings. However, if anyone cares to pass my opinion along to George, go right ahead. I should have that bathroom carpet cleaned in plenty of time for a surprise visit.

For that matter, if any of you readers want to come by, please do. I love company, and if you give me a few hours' notice, I'll run out and buy some two-ply toilet paper for that bathroom.

So you'll be impressed.

As for that cheap stuff we usually use. . . . your fingers would go right through it.

But that's all right, too. We have lots of antibacterial soap.

And I'll leave that scrub-brush out in case you need to get under your fingernails.

(I'll rinse it under plenty of plain cold water first.)