This morning I was getting ready for work and could have sworn I smelled something. I think it was Martha's butt, because I found no doodies anywhere and the smell went away as quickly as it arrived. If she is a farty cat I guess I'll deal with it. She hasn't been much of a lap cat, really. Farty lap cats aren't my ideal companion...
I didn't smell anything else, either. Instead I caught something shiny in the corner of my eye and realized it was a pool of liquid sitting in the bottom of the kitty astroturf under her litterbox...
I kinda flipped out a little. Grady never did that! I angrily told Martha that I wasn't going to have any of that, and if this was about being left alone all day or my unwillingness to pet her constantly as she eats then I'm sorry, there isn't much I can do about that right now! After cleaning up what I could I stood back and waited, paranoid she'd do it again. Then a strange thing happened.
Martha walked up to her litterbox and stopped. She looked at me to make sure I was watching and then approached it from the side with the most of the mat to cross. Step, step... then a hasty backtrack. She then got in from the other side where there is a bit of carpet remnant to walk on, did her business, and leaped from the box to the carpet when she was done. She sat in front of me, waiting. We stared at each other.
"Well?" she asked cautiously. Okay, I think I got it.
She is a smart cookie. Weird, but smart. I bought a shaggy replacement rug on the way home. So far it has been deemed acceptable.
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