Aaaarrrrgh. We have the "bug" here. I just got over it, having gotten it from my husband and since he was so nice and shared. I shared back. Yep, poor guy has it again. Where is this leading? The litter box. It didn't get cleaned when it should have and when I finally got to it, there was Moaky with his back legs crossed looking at me with his most pathetic cocked head look, while inside his little brain was screaming, "Hurry up, Lady!". Moaky has a quaint history of waiting until you have completely emptied the old litter and just laid a fresh liner but have turned your back to get the new litter when he sneaks into the box and pees in the liner. Today was no different. There he was, waiting for a fresh liner. I had to work fast. But he was faster. There were the liners still lying on the floor waiting for me to put them in place when, whoosh, through my legs he runs and squats on the liners. Obviously, they are, at the moment, nothing more than slippery plastic on the floor with no depth or way to contain fluid. ACK! And worse, Moaky's feet are starting to slip out from under him and his bottom, still doing what it is designed to do, is gradually sinking toward the ever increasing puddle. So idiot that I am, I put one foot on either side of his so he will stop slipping and let him continue his thing. He nods appreciatively and leaves when done, like this is an every day service. Meanwhile I am making a mad dash to contain the flood. I finally get new liners, fill the boxes with litter and clean up the mess and retreat to my safe little corner of the universe. And what is my husband's only comment? Why do I smell bleach! MEN!!!!
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