Before I go on, yes ... those were the good old days. Where you could go to a pet store and buy a dog or a cat. I guess you can't do that anymore, at least in this state. We were at Petsmart the other day and instead of "Dogs and Cats For Sale", there were "Adoptees".
How fucking cute.
Instead of an inbred pet, you can buy a free range mongrel for the same inflated price. And although they say that they've had all their shots and pixie dust and mental counseling and are as normal as can be, the fact remains that they are ticking time bombs, set to go off about 48 hours after you take them home. Then you find out that you paid 500 dollars for a shedding, vomiting, shit & piss anywhere, bad tempered minion of Satan himself. The more sane amongst us drive to the nearest corn field and let the beast loose to wreak havoc on the countryside, but others resign themselves to 15 to 20 years hard time with a slobbering money pit.
But back to Sam. Following her training period, we gave her free run of the house, and amazingly, she didn't destroy all that much. I figured that given the average life expectancy of a pet store cat, I could be rid of the thing in five years. Then our pet "phase" would be over and no animals would ever darken our door again. Ever.
That was close to two decades ago. And the cat is still here. Still moving, eating and breathing, with no end in sight. Lucky me.
The cat's litter box has been housed in the unused shower in our downstairs bathroom for all that time. But now, with a complete remodel of the room scheduled for next month, which includes removing the useless shower, the cat will have to find someplace else to poop. Because I'm not spending that kind of money on a remodel to showcase a plastic pan full of shit.
So over the weekend, we went to the above mentioned Petsmart and bought this:
And placed it in an unused corner by the cat's bed on the second floor. That was two days ago, and it sits, accumulating no poop. The cat eyes it warily from her bed, but makes no move to use it. Hell, she makes no indication that she even knows what it's for.
I have no idea how to toilet train a cat. Especially a cat as old as Methuselah. So, I'll play the waiting game for now, and maybe in a few weeks, something will click in that little cat brain and all will become clear. You're losing your lower level crapper cat ... and this is the only game in town.
I hope this is how it turns out. Because if it doesn't, it'll be time for "Plan B". Shoving her through that door and taping it shut after her until she gets the idea.