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Irony Alert!: This blog may be a tad contrary.

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April 12, 2005



I spend nine freaking dollars a week on cat litter! Nine - count them. I buy the recycled paper littler because it's light to carry home and apparently decomposes. My cat goes through buckets of it. She always pees over the side of the tray, so now I have a mop and bucket sitting in the kitchen. Unfortunately I have the tray in the kitchen because there's nowhere else to put it in flat, and I need to keep her arse away from carpet. When I come home I see the flood of urine on the floor and I feel angry and depressed and I fill the bucket and mop it all up, while she watches on, thoughtful. I bought a poo barrel, for fifty dollars, and she refuses to get in it. Perhaps because she thinks it's a cat cage and I'm going to whisk her off to the vet's. I'm depressed by how much of my life and my moods are affected by my cat's toilet habits. And horrified by how much money I spend annually simple so she can empty bladder and bowel. Which has led me to seriously contemplate whether I will get another furry friend when she shuffles off the mortal coil. I probably will, I guess... Once a cat sucker, always a cat sucker.


Wow! I think I should have gotten you to guest-write tihs post... (I'm being head-butted by Leonard as I write this.)

Will she use the poo-barrel if you confiscate the usual litter tray?

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