Thursday, August 28, 2008

I Cannot Believe All This Crap!

The title is to be taken literally. We're talking cat crap here. Tons of it. And cat urine. Gallons of it. This is an anti-cat rant. I have a feline unlike any other I've ever owned. I like animals and have had cats and dogs around the house for years and years. The present cat, a white Persian named Rapunzel, has almost totally worn out her welcome around here. I've had to relocate her litter from out of the corner in our big walk-in closet to a spot near a door leading outside. Why? you ask. Well, let me tell you. When this damn cat decides she doesn't like the smell, sight, feel of the litter on her dainty little paws, or there's bad karma around the litter, or, she's tired of watching the Olympics or hell, she doesn't have any reason at all, she will take a crap right on the rug in the closet. Or a piss. Or both. Who knows? Because like the tapping of our phones and the torture of prisoners, it's all done in secret.

Yesterday, I had to pour a half gallon of vinegar on the rug to get the cat piss out of it! Which was so bad in spots that the vinegar actually bubbled like peroxide on a cut. Now I know what some of you are thinking . . . just clean or change the litter more often, dummy. You think I haven't thought of this? Smart guy like me? All I can say is if you gauged the frequency of my engagements in such activity on a daily basis, you'd have some of the same questions that are bedeviling my mind. To wit: how can one damn cat piss and shit more than any five cats you've ever seen? I kid you not. This cat evacuates bowels and bladder more often than you ever thought possible. I was talking to my daughter on the phone yesterday after I'd moved the litter to its new spot, and in the space of ten minutes the damn cat took one crap and three pisses at the new location. TEN MINUTES! (Plus she's so mentally challenged, she doesn't know how to cover up her turds. She vigorously scratches the top edge of the litter box instead of the litter.)

So here is the deal: this diarrhetic cat will learn to do her business outside my house or she is gone. I am going to give her several days more inside-the-house litter, then move the box outside, then deep six it altogether. At the first inside infraction after that, she will be banished to either the outside permanently or to another home.

Sound heartless? Well, I'm sorry. Because in addition to being a overstimulated shit factory, she is not a friendly cat. She doesn't like me or anybody else. Won't rub against my legs, or anybody else's. Doesn't like to be touched.
Won't sit in your lap. Runs when she sees me--after a year of being here. Not like I'm a stranger. Not like I'm not the one who makes sure she has enough chow so she can manufacture more shit to deposit on my rugs. This cat needs serious therapy. Better her than me.
Post a Comment