As we all know well, my cat, unlike 99% of all cats, will not go near his litter box. After purchasing four different litter boxes, three different kinds of litter and investing in enough Swiffer products to start my own maid service, I was pretty much at my wit's end.
I finally decided that since the cat seems to think he's a dog anyway, maybe a daily walk with Cassidy would help.
Have I always been the person who makes fun of anyone who puts a cat on a leash? Yes. Did I ever, at any point in my wildest dreams, see myself as the kind of person who would walk a cat? Certainly not. Was I more embarrassed to walk my cat in front of the neighbors than the time I climbed in the car half-dressed with a towel on my head to drive to a friend's house because my hot water went out just as it was time to rinse the Nice 'N' Easy gray coverage dye out of my hair? Yes.
But, as well all know, desperate times call for desperate measures, so I suited the animals up.
Toonces the cat spent 60% of the walk lying on his back in the middle of the sidewalk refusing to move and trying to squirm out of his collar. He spent the other 40% flattening himself against the ground and creeping along like a crab.
Cassidy, excited for a chance to run and play and sniff was not pleased to have such a sedentary companion.
The only aspect of the walk that seemed passable was when we passed some barking dogs and Toonces clung to me for dear life. I thought, "Maybe, at least now, he'll appreciate me. Maybe now, he'll realize how lucky he is to have a safe, warm and loving home."
No such luck.
Without peeing, pooping or seeming the list bit in need of some relief on our walk, Toonces went right back into the house and took a squat on the kitchen floor.
But, strangely enough, this is not what I find to be weirdest about my cat.
The other day, I was leaving the house in a hurry and didn't realize that I had accidentally closed Toonces in the bathroom. I returned home hours later to the pathetic cries of a trapped kitten. In addition to being concerned about the poor little guy, my head also filled with visions of a shredded shower curtain, tossed about toiletries and bath mats that could never be used again because of what I was sure were their new roles as kitty toilets.
I opened the door, picked up the cat and braced myself for a look around.
The bathroom was in perfect shape. Nothing had been touched. Not even a Q-tip or two had been batted around. I stared down at Toonces in wonder. Surely, he couldn't have held his bladder for that long.
Looking a little further, I found his spot. There, just behind the toilet, there was a little pile of toilet paper stained yellow.
Yes, you heard that right. My cat is baffled by kitty litter, but somehow seems to know what toilet paper is for. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have believed it. And, in some ways, it only makes me think the little guy just really loves f*&%ing with me. Because, when it comes to who's going to break first here, we all know who it's going to be. Despite his incontinence, have you seen that face?
Wherever this feline came from, he's proving to be quite a formidable match.
As an epilogue to this story, in the last few days, for some strange reason and with no major changes, Toonces has taken to using his litter box about half the time. I can't determine the triggers, and I don't exactly know how to encourage the behavior, but for the first time in my life, I really think I understand how to see the glass as half full rather than half empty.
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