Jake was going into and out of the litterbox this morning. He was yowling when he was there. That's what he does when he is constipated, so I gave him a stool softener.*
A bit later, I went into the laundry/utility room where I keep his litterbox. He had torn apart my stack of recyclables and scattered the collection of plastic bags.**
At that point, it was clear that he was protesting the condition of the litterbox, in that the level was too low for his sensibilities. I added litter. Jake stopped complaining.
George (peace be upon him) would have just shit next to the litterbox to signal his displeasure.
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* Understand that "giving" in this context means "grab the cat and shove a capsule down his throat."
** I take those back to the store for recycling.
Sorry, But Santa Is Way Ahead Of You
1 hour ago
2 comments:
People say cats can't communicate.
Hummph! All to often if we listen we hear. When we don't we see and smell.
The price for inattention is noticeable.
Eck! pwnd by a cat.
Do cats ever communicate! Decades ago a woman moved in with me and her two cats. One of them did not approve. He crapped on my pillow to express his displeasure. He was scolded for that. He understood, and never did it again. Instead, a few nights later, while I was asleep in bed, he peed on me.
The problem was finally cured when I became the sole person to feed the cats. (The other cat had no problem with me and in fact, became my pal.) The pooping-peeing cat got the message: never crap where you eat. Or some variation of that.
And anybody wonders why I prefer dogs?
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