This morning, I got up, fed the cats and then went back to bed. When I finally dragged my ass out of bed, I found that George had dropped a turd on the floor right in front of the place on the couch where I usually sit.
I guess he didn't care for the food.
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Oh, boy. He'd feel at home with our cats. I put out the prescription food and they just fucking stare at me as if to say "you're serious?"
He is the only one of my cats who uses defecation as a means of communication. If Jake or Gracie were to stop using the litter boxes, I'd assume they were sick. In George's case, he is just pissed off at something.
Mencken yaks up his kitty chow in strategic places as his form of communication. Unfortunately The Mighty Fang then comes behind and cleans it up (eeeech!)...
-- Badtux the Cat-owned Penguin
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