This household has an ongoing relationship with Elby, That Cat!’s cat box. His litter box, in case that is more familiar to you. I have had a cat in my life for the last 36 years. And, there is always something going on with their box.
I use what I consider to be the best kitty litter around – Feline Pine Pellets – lemme see if I can grab a photo of the stuff:
It is superb. I use the pellets and as soon as something liquid hits them, those fine little pellets suck it up and become sawdust-y, eventually the whole box can be used as mulch…. Swell.
Before it becomes mulch, there are Elby, That Cat’s “deposits” or, as my Vet likes to say, “kitty treats.” Right. Kitty treats, so called, because Ella, the greythound, loves Elby’s poop. That’s it. As straight forward as I can put it. Fortunately, Ella is not a face licker or kisser. The best she will give is a nose to nose, eye to eye gaze, for which I am very thankful because it gives fair warning to my nose that she’s been in Elby’s box.
But, there’s a conspiracy afoot between Elby & Ella. One would think a cat would love a clean cat box, no? No. Not so for Elby. The cat box is in the bathroom where there are also two bath rugs. Upon receiving new fresh litter, Elby will explore it, perhaps make a deposit, but the first use goes to the bath rug for a good pee, which he then tries to bury by twisting the rug into knots, which come undone so that his mother, me, can step unwarily in her SOCKS onto the rug and feel Elby’s love and care.
If I have been remiss on keeping up on Elby’s box, Ella makes it clear that I have been so remiss by leaving a trail of kitty treats down the hall and into the living room. Sigh. Thank God I wear my glasses almost all the time.
Both of them have me so well trained now that I use that pooper scooper just about every time I’m in the bathroom. Here’s the thing. You can scoop up the poop and throw ’em into the toilet and flush the memory away. All well and good. But, somewhere along the way, it became a point of honor with me to do so with as few pellets as possible, necessitating strategic combing, the pushing of pellets one way, the poop the other, struggling to catch a poop here, another there, another over there with as few pellets as possible – they’re too fat to shake out, see? The real challenge is trying to get it all done with one scoop. It’s maddening and yet… I feel incredibly accomplished when I vanquish the box’s contents.
Here are those silly creatures (be sure to click so you can see Elby, That Cat! hanging out behind Ella):