Then there's Slinky. If Slinky were human, she'd be about 4'10" with blue-rinse hair and glasses on a string. As it is, she's a three pound, 18 year old, bobble-head cat. Just the sweetest natured thing you'd ever wish to see.
Tommy and Slinky were used to being home alone during the days when their mommy was at work. Now they have a
Slinky, on the other hand, has completely taken to having a person around. She used to climb assorted boxes and shelves to get up on RobertaX's desk to sleep during the day. Then she realized she could make a little half-hearted effort at getting up and mew piteously until I boosted her onto the desk. Once she knew I had the point, she abandoned even the half-hearted effort. Now she just walks to the desk and looks back and forth between me and it, mewing and waiting to be picked up. If I'm not in the room, she'll come find me and we do the whole "What's that? Little Billy's down the well?" production until I follow her to the office and place her on the desk.
Her other foible involves the litter box. It has to sit on a rubber mat and be surrounded with paper because sometimes little Slinky would daintily squat her hindquarters over the edge of the box. So, since it's in sight of my desk, if I saw her step in during the day and squat wrong, I'd reach over and shift her hindquarters until they were positioned within the box. She'd blissfully go on about her business.
She got used to her bathroom servant pretty quickly; now she'll just step into the box and, as soon as all four feet are inside, wait a second and then let loose without even hunkering down, assuming that the hand from the sky will position her properly. Which isn't so great if the hand from the sky isn't in the room.
So, in return for all my solicitude and genuine affection for this slightly befuddled little dowager of a kitty, how am I repaid? About halfway through my second absolutely delicious roast beef sandwich she steps into her litter box and walks out to the middle of it and... makes the nastiest smelling little pile conceivable, then looks at me and mews to be replaced on her desk.
Thanks, Slinky, love ya too...
13 comments:
Was that "Slinky" or "Stinky"?
Once is an event. Twice is training.
And if you do it thrice, it's your job.
The whole "hand from the sky" thing was hilarious as heck, but damn I'm glad I'm a dog person.
Frankly, the only real problem with telecommuting is the damn cats.
Lately they've been sleeping all night and bugging me all day. Which helps with sleeping but plays hell with productivity.
I'd shut the door but they'd just paw at it and meow piteously.
No issues with the litter boxes, though. (We have three. The vet says you must have one more than you have cats. I'm willing to go along with that as long as Sally cleans out the boxes.)
The only odd thing I do is that I have a bowl of special diet food on my desk to feed the older cat. We'd feed them both this food but the vet says the other cat shouldn't have it. So the bowl is actually a Ziploc container with a lid that I put on when Snoopy isn't chowing down.
So it goes.
What is it about gal cats and litterboxes? I'm now on my 3rd female who thinks she must have "all four paws inside the box (sometimes well inside)" which occasionally leaves the necessary anatomy hanging over the edge.
In my experience, the guys don't have this problem. (Should they want to irritate you, they'll just go and pee up against the wall somewhere.)
TW: "uplesism" - religion dedicated to practicing the inverse of "one upmanship"
...that you set yourself up when you spoke abut how "things couldn't be righter with the world."
I'm just sayin'.
I've had very similar incidents with my cats though I never let them get away with too much - except that look when one wants up on my lap and is too lazy to jump up. I wish toilet-training a cat was easier - I've seen the youtube videos but there's NO WAY it's that easy lol. besides I wouldn't wanna sit down and sit on a cat at 2am!
as for the litterboxes, you CAN have one for 3 cats (I do because of space constraints) but you have to keep up on it constantly (not good if you don't have time) and you really need an incredibly good clumping cat litter.
good luck with the cats...
from the one owned by THREE maine coons
I'm reminded of the story about the difference between cats and dogs.
Dogs think, "They give me food, water, and shelter. They must be Gods!"
Cats think, "They give me food, water, and shelter. I must be a God!"
The Huffman-Scott compound has two dogs and two cats.
Old Grouch- it's not just the girls. Our male cat will drop over the side if he is in any way feeling less than agreeable.
The cat and the dogs cause roughly equal levels of headache around here. On one hand, the dogs are well-behaved for the vet and don't deliberately try to get underfoot. On the other, the cat doesn't routinely develop foul outputs from killing wildlife, burying it, and then eating it after it ripens for a few days.
Ah, but this is all just a matter of perspective.
Slinky is an aroma stylist, an artiste, if you will, with the objective of helping you find your food more savoury by comparison.
Really.
She's helping you.
I'd come up with something pithy to say, but there are litterboxes that need to be sifted. *sigh*
The litterbox thing is under control in our little corner of the world. However, twice I have caught our neutered tom squatting over the air conditioning return duct. I scolded him, pulled up the grate and mopped down the inside with an enzyme of some sort, then took the grate outside and hosed it down.
I only hope this is transitory and that I got it all - come winter, it's the heat duct. :(
No, lergnom, it's a heated toilet seat.
Post a Comment