Tuesday, January 15, 2013
How I got a new toothbrush
And I was tired of washing that damn rug in the bathroom.
The last resort was putting an extra litter box in our bathroom (near the damn rug) in hopes that she would feel more comfortable with her own box, privately tucked behind the cabinet. It was suggested by many, but fought against by us--those who share this wee abode with one already-too-stinky cat box in the laundry room. The idea of another cat box is not always welcome, you know?
We succumbed, and it ended up saving us all--including Grace. She rarely pees inappropriately anymore--unless of course, you leave your bedding on the floor when you change the sheets. That's just asking for trouble as far as she is concerned. So we don't....and she doesn't. Best of all, she doesn't have to meet her maker for peeing all over the house anymore--it was getting to that point.
We have all learned to live with that extra litter box in the bathroom. Joe scoops before he gets in the shower, and then sweeps up the scattered litter off the bathroom floor before we all line up for morning showers. I scoop and vacuum again after work.....and we all sort of try not to complain about the box that keeps Grace on this good green Earth. It's what you do when you love someone.
While we all tolerate that box, it does exude a certain sort of magnetism. I don't care what you drop or where, it ends up in that damn litter box.
Drop a Q-tip...it bounces into the litter. Comb? Brush? Ker-plunk....crunch. You don't even have to look....you know where it is. Joe dropped the shower squeegee this past weekend--it bounced off the tub a few times, past the shower curtain and plop! right into the cat box. (Thank goodness it was after he scooped.) It's just crazy....everything just sort of ends up in that little zen garden of kitty sand.
It was bound to happen, you just know it. Last night....I was brushing my teeth.....
3 guesses where my toothbrush landed.