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September 26, 2002

homeland litterbox security

homeland litterbox security

There was a litter box disaster here at Casa Moxie today. If I had a color coded Homeland Litterbox Security Advisory System today would have been RED or severe. Typically my little critters crap just after they eat in the morning. They pee at will, I've never actually seen them pee, except for the time I caught Bentley using the toilet seven years ago. He had poor aim and sprinkled so I keep the lids down.

It's no secret that there are 24 hours in each and every day. Everyone knows that cats sleep a lot, often 20 hours a day and that they are inherently clean animals. I'm embarrassed to admit all this, of course but if I can't spill my guts here then where can I?

So this afternoon both little vermin were sleeping on my desk chair. I figured that this would be an opportune time to change the cat litter. I tiptoed out of the office and downstairs to the little bathroom dedicated to their privacy, comfort and craptastic needs.

There is a whole process involved in my litter box changing; the first and most important step is the surgical mask. I ran out and can't afford more so I tie a scarf around my nose and mouth region instead. I then enter the critter's inner sanctum, lift the box lid and pull the drawstrings on the liner. No sooner have I done this when I feel Bentley rubbing up against my ankles. And before I can place the bag of ungodly stink outside the back door Phoebe appears and starts giving me hell. These guys sleep 20 hours a day and I have never seen them awake at this particular hour of the afternoon. Sensing their urgency I grab a new liner and make the mistake of first spraying the box with Lysol. Those few critical seconds cost me.

I place the liner in the box and both Phoebe and Bentley try to get in. I say no, and Bentley scampers upstairs. Phoebe as per usual doesn't give a shit what I just said to her and decides that she's going to pee now. And just for a little variety, she's going to pee standing up. I'm trying to hold her little ass down, while pouring litter at the same time. Stupid Moxie bought one of those unwieldy 25 lb. boxes of litter and most of it ends up on the floor as does Phoebe's urine.

Having owned cats since I was 1 year old, I know I can't scold her as she was peeing where she's supposed to pee. So I begin to sanitize the bathroom when I realize that I haven't seen the B man. I run upstairs looking for him. He's sleeping on my bed. I go over to give him a kiss and notice huge f*ing skid marks on my comforter cover.

Damn skid marks!!! And they are not mine!!
I thank gawd at that moment that I have a washer and dryer in my unit and don't have to go begging for quarters on the corner of Melrose and Fairfax.

I pick him up only to find that he has shit stuck in his fluffy tail and not just a little. I'm talking a huge clump of gooey poo. He's usually impeccable in his grooming rituals so I know something has gone awry. Genital cleanliness is something he doesn't hesitate to take care of, even in front of a room full of company. I take him into the upstairs bathroom and put him in the sink for a quick tail-bath. It's then that I realize he took a dump in my bathtub. Better the tub than the rug, I think as I realize the cat shampoo is downstairs and I already have him wet down. So I use some Pantene for damaged, color treated hair on him instead. His tail hasn't shone like this since he was a kitten.

So if you all wondered where I was today, I was busy being Moxie cleaner of pee and poopy stuff. But at least I finally received verification that at least one of the critters still pees.

{max power is my new best friend!! Mmwaaah! Thank you Max!!!}

Posted by Moxie at September 26, 2002 10:56 PM |Stumble It! | | del.icio.us