Sunday, November 25, 2007
Free to a good home
Warning, dog people: This post is about cats.
The chore I hate most is cleaning the litter box. I don't mean just scooping it out, which I do nightly and isn't really that bad. I mean actually emptying it and washing out the boxes.
I'm fairly certain I'm supposed to do this once a month or so, maybe every couple months. I hadn't done it since we moved here. That was 2 years and 4 months ago.
So I knew it was something I had to do.
I'm also on this let's-go-as-green-as-we-can kick lately, plus I'm sick of little cat litter kernels all over the basement. So I found this all-natural litter called Feline Pine, and it's not litter at all. It's little sticks of pine, apparently from a tree. It was on sale at Target, so last night I bought 20 pounds of it.
And this morning I emptied and washed the boxes and swept up the area. I wore a dust mask, and it was still like inhaling dirty clay.
I really, really hated it.
To top it all off, I had decided for some dumb, dumb reason to wear the very cool race T-shirt I got at the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving, and I splattered bleach on it. So now little spots of white dance across the front of the deep blue shirt.
And here's the kicker:
When I finished cleaning up the whole dirty area downstairs and filling the boxes with a little of the pine and a little of the old (cats are smarter than you think; they know when you've changed something that matters to them, so I'm attempting to introduce the pine gradually), I at least felt productive.
But 10 minutes later, I found a gift from one of our cats on the floor downstairs, far, far away from the newly cleaned boxes. On the carpet.
So they're all up for adoption.