Cat.

My cat is getting older and we noticed recently that she was having a little trouble getting in and out of her letterbox since she had to kind of jump into it. Desiring anything to make her life a little easier and, quite frankly, to avoid her avoiding the letterbox at all, we ran to the pet store last week to see what we could find. We discovered this:
A Booda Dome. It seemed ideal. It has a little ramp like hallway leading into an enclosed box. It promised 90% odor containment and it came in a variety of lovely colors. Sold. If kitty ain’t happy, ain’t no body happy, so kitty gets a posh new box.

I was, however a little concerned that she wouldn’t handle a big change so well so I decided that we would put the new box in the same place as the old box and keep the old box to one side for a few days, just to not shake up her world too much. Seemed like a good thing, right? Well, she took to the new box right away and James dubbed it THUNDERDOME. She seemed to really like the ramp set up and there was really no issue, but still, I thought, let’s keep the old box (now referred to as “the country house”) for just few days.

The other night I came home and, despite regular cleaning of THUNDERDOME in the days since purchase, there was a powerful cat funk in the apartment. It was then I discovered how truly privileged my cat believes she is. She had decided that since she had TWO litter boxes, she could designate them for…um…different uses. The THUNDERDOME was being used for #1 and the country house (although WE thought she was not using it at all) was a poopatorium.

I love her but she’s not THAT spoiled (she just smells like she is). The country house was thrown away. THUNDERDOME remains.

Damn she takes advantage whenever she can!