Monday, June 27, 2011

Blame That Smell On the Cat

I've been seeing cats recently. Honestly, if I haven't been seeing way more raccoons, I'd swear they were my spirit animal following me around, trying to warn me of impending life lessons.

Few while driving, one clearly an outdoors-pet, two or three today I named "Dumpster Cat" at a horrible, low-income, ghetto-style apartment complex, which had a propensity for tricycles strewn about the property.

And this:


That's a litter box training kit for your cat. If you live in a city, it's inconvenient to have to keep a small box in your tiny apartment. Obviously, the solution is to turn your toilet into a litter box for a few weeks, which you will likely poop in by mistake at least once in the middle of the night, then make it a little dessert oasis with a hole in the middle, such that the cat poop falls into the bowl beneath and you have to clean less, and then finally just have your cat pooping in the toilet like a normal person.

Except it's a cat.

My mom used to have a friend whose cat learned to do this on his own, but didn't figure out how to flush. This friend was terribly distraught at the notion of some weird person sneaking into her home every day, only to poop in the toilet and not flush it. Then she caught her cat doing it and that was that.

But yes, I'm sure it's much more convenient to only have to flush the toilet a dozen more times a day than cleaning a stinky box once.

Plus, it forever ends arguments about who left the seat up.

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