Cat Box Philosophizing

As I scoop the litter box tonight I ponder the state of my life- getting divorced with children; dealing with a death in the family; turning 40; and all in December. I tie the ends of the heavy bag of kitty waste to lug outside on this cold, rainy night and see that a cat is- of course- drinking out of the cup I left on the table, silly me. He shouldn’t be on the table, and he shouldn’t be drinking my water, but that’s never stopped him before. I realize, finally, that I must write the Book Kitty Blog.

The Book Kitties appeared in my life on Mother’s Day 2010. They were abandoned by their own mother on Mother’s Day, and lay mewling and helpless in the driveway.We fed them kitty formula with a dropper and put them in a cardboard box with a heating pad in it. To our amazement they lived and thrived. And it quickly became apparent to everyone (though I am pretty sure that Faith called it) that these were no ordinary orphaned kittens. We had rescued Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty!

Yes, the book kitties are alive and well and living in my house, eating and pooping and being generally mischievous as you would expect Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty to be.



They are training me well. So far they have taught me to only halfheartedly discipline them when they are naughty since they don’t care anyway. They laugh at the water bottle sprayer and scoff at yells and hisses. I pick them up and hug them now when they are naughty- that REALLY irritates them. Bad Kitty has trained me to give him his own bowl of vegetables so he doesn’t have to steal them off the table. Whenever I am near a bathroom faucet I turn it on for him so he can drink out of his own personal fountain. Yes, I am a well-trained human. But I still forget about cleaning the litter box sometimes so they are trying to train me by leaving little poop presents right next to, but not quite inside, the litter box. Subtle. And it totally works. I wanted to wait until morning, but the box got cleaned tonight… exactly according to their nefarious plan.

My whole life may be changing, but one thing is constant: the litter box always needs to be cleaned.