Just another post about catshit.

Well I was just about ready to sit down and wonder out loud exactly how they can possibly cram all that needs to be done on America's Next Top Model tonight in one stinking hour, when suddenly, I smelled poop.

And I don't keep my cracktop anywhere near the litter box.

Of course there was a kitten hanging off one of my legs, so I picked her up and checked out her bum. Evidence.

Little. Pooping. Bastard.

It didn't take long to find it, it was over there in the sort of half corner by the balcony door. And it wasn't like she had an emergency, like you know, Oh my gosh I have to go RIGHT NOW and there is NO WAY I can make it to the laundry room! No. It was all sat over and stacked and I am actually half surprised I didn't see a folded up sports page sitting next to it. AND it appears she wiped her ass on the wall next to it. I don't know how I didn't spot it sooner - I can walk into an empty warehouse and spot a spider on the ceiling from 800 yards. Spi-dar I have; poop-dar apparently takes practice.

Did I shove her nose in it and smack her? Yes I did. And cleaned it up and my GOD I hate cleaning up poop. But these cats, I swear to God. They don't listen. They don't mind me at all. I can soak them to the skin with the spray bottle but it doesn't stop them from chewing the wires (I know, hard lesson ultimately to learn) or scratching the sofa. I sit them down, I tell them in English AND SPANISH what the rules are, but nothing. It's like they're not bilingual or something.

Yeah so anyway... safe idea for the carpet or not, I am going over to Nicky's tonight to watch the season (cycle, sorry) finale of ANTM on the big projection TV in the media room. You know, because it's that big of an event. I am interested, truly, how they can cram all this into one hour, but I guess I'll know soon enough, won't I?