(no subject)
One knows, intellectually, that one's cat is a menace. However, it doesn't really strike home right away; it requires a concrete example.
For example:
Today I finished a lesson late, and decided not to go home at lunch to feed Yggi; I figured he could wait until three or four instead, since this is my early day.
Ahahaha.
I went in, just now, and found him reclining on my bed in the cutest position imaginable. Disregarding the unpleasant smell that pervaded the apartment, I went and cuddled and tickled him for a minute or so, then set his lunch to thawing.
Then I opened the bathroom door.
See, I'd bought a big sack of litter on Tuesday, and had set it on top of the washing machine, which is in the bathroom. This I did despite knowing that the cat likes to play on top of the washing machine, and that he is a beast from hell. I noticed last night that there was a little hole in the bag, but forgot to do anything about it, and left it where it was.
Today, there was a desert in my bathroom.
I'd gotten a little behind in changing the litter. After kicking the contents of his litter box all over the main room (I moved it out there this morning so I could shower), my resourceful companion set about to create a substitute. This he did by shredding the plastic bag the litter was in, and spilling about half the contents onto the washing machine and all over the bathroom floor. I guess I'm lucky, because he doesn't appear to have used his desert yet, but I'm sure it would have been only a matter of time. I had to come back to work and didn't have time to clean properly, so I ended up just shutting the bathroom door and hurling invective at the cat.
He responded by going into the freshly filled box, and hurling more litter onto the freshly swept floor.
Good times.
For example:
Today I finished a lesson late, and decided not to go home at lunch to feed Yggi; I figured he could wait until three or four instead, since this is my early day.
Ahahaha.
I went in, just now, and found him reclining on my bed in the cutest position imaginable. Disregarding the unpleasant smell that pervaded the apartment, I went and cuddled and tickled him for a minute or so, then set his lunch to thawing.
Then I opened the bathroom door.
See, I'd bought a big sack of litter on Tuesday, and had set it on top of the washing machine, which is in the bathroom. This I did despite knowing that the cat likes to play on top of the washing machine, and that he is a beast from hell. I noticed last night that there was a little hole in the bag, but forgot to do anything about it, and left it where it was.
Today, there was a desert in my bathroom.
I'd gotten a little behind in changing the litter. After kicking the contents of his litter box all over the main room (I moved it out there this morning so I could shower), my resourceful companion set about to create a substitute. This he did by shredding the plastic bag the litter was in, and spilling about half the contents onto the washing machine and all over the bathroom floor. I guess I'm lucky, because he doesn't appear to have used his desert yet, but I'm sure it would have been only a matter of time. I had to come back to work and didn't have time to clean properly, so I ended up just shutting the bathroom door and hurling invective at the cat.
He responded by going into the freshly filled box, and hurling more litter onto the freshly swept floor.
Good times.