Bitter About Litter-boxes

I hate litter-boxes.  For years my cats did their business outside, with the exception of really nasty snowy days when my orange cat would demand some kind of potty box inside.  Oh, then there was the tabby cat who took to pissing behind my kitchen counter, which is an old beautiful woodworking bench, because she was old and getting senile.  I have a cat door for chrisake!  There is absolutely no reason for my cats to demand a litter-box, but they do.

I believe that demand stems from the mountain lion that may have killed my two male cats.  The remaining cats must have been traumatized by the murders and now refuse to spend more than a few minutes out in the yard.  They never wander far from the house and that includes Afina, the cat who spent years down at the neighbors house and only came home to eat.  It's not like they would have a hard time finding the cat door, it has a blue carpeted ramp with a huge flamenco pink arrow pointing to it.  I believe they do this just to aggravate me.

I will say it again, I hate litter-boxes.  I know that cats are particular about their boxes so I have tried a few kinds.  First came the huge open box with the clumping litter.  That only produced tons of litter being scattered during scratching and litter being tracked all over the house.  I then tried the same box with feline pine but got the same results.  Then I bought a covered box with a cat door that swings (just like the door they used for years to get in and out of the house) but the cats wouldn't go through the door.  Thankfully, the domed lid to the box can be raised so that the front is completely open and the rest of the box is surrounded.  This works to some extent and when the cats scratch they no longer hurl litter all over the place.  This particular box has what I call a trough whose function is to act as a litter-tracking guard.  Well Assisi, the tortie cat, uses the trough as a urinal.  She will scratch in the box, position her bottom over the trough and pee.  This same cat will defecate inside the box but refuses to pee in the thing.  I have placed a plastic place mat in front of the box for those times when she decides she doesn't even want the trough and would rather piss on the floor.  I can't tell you how many times that place mat as saved her life!  For awhile Assisi urinated on the place mat every time so I switched to clay litter thinking that she didn't like the clumping kind.  For about a week she was a really good girl and actually pooped and peed inside the box, then I came home one day to urine in the trough.  I am now going to switch back to the clumping litter to make my life easier which will allow Afina and Assisi to live another day.

Strangers in the House

So late last night I'm trying to sleep, tossing and turning and punching the pillow and eventually fading into that half-sleep stage. As I drift in and out of sleep I hear the cat food bowls downstairs being knocked around a bit but think nothing of it since Cagney, the orange tabby, has a tendency to play with his food. I finally fall to sleep but awaken after a few minutes with a feeling that something is not right with the world. I decide to open my eyes and turn over to see all five of the cats sitting upstairs like sentinels staring down at the floor below. This is a signal that something is in the house that doesn't belong. I sit up on the edge of the bed, slide my feet into my slippers, turn on the lamp and creep slowly down the stairs. As I look to my left I see a form that is sitting up with its head slumped over. Oh My Gawd! It's the damned raccoon I had seen earlier in the week wandering around in the daylight! This animal didn't look well then and it looks even worse now!
My first reaction is to grab the phone to call someone, anyone to share in my dilemma but I realize it's too late to call even my late night friends. So I say every curse word I can think of and grab the broom and guide the poor raccoon out the front door. He really doesn't want to go out but he sure can't stay!
My next chore is to block the cat door so the cats can't get out and the raccoon can't get in. That done I realize I'm wide awake so I do the dishes then go upstairs and take a bath. I decide it's safe to go back to bed so I turn off the light and lie down and attempt to get back to sleep.
I'd say that about 15 minutes later I hear a cat taking his claw to the front door and making this clicking sound that is the equivilent to Chinese Water Torture which is not conducive to sleep. I then get back up and go downstairs to block the front door off to the cats then go back upstairs and lay back down in hopes of getting some sleep.
No sooner do I close my eyes when I hear a cat clawing the door to the screened porch! I whip the covers off and scream some ear-burning words that send cats scattering to all corners of the house. I stomp downstairs and put chairs, books, tables and various other items in front of the porch door to block it from those goddam cat claws. By this time it's 2 AM so I decide to wash my hair. After that task is complete I lay back down in the hopes that I will at least get some sleep before I have to awaken at 5.
As you can tell there's never a dull moment at my house!