Hi everyone, Katie here.
Now that I'm back in the blogging game again, one thing is for certain. I have much to say.
So many grievances. So many challenges. So many intruders, annoyances and infractions against me and my domain. Glogirly began her new job back in May. To say she travels (a.k.a. abandons me) is an understatement. If it weren't for my resourcefulness and resolve, Cod only knows what would have come of me. There are simply too many harrowing events that have occurred during the last few months to list. But I simply cannot keep quiet about the incident I choose to call "Shower Caddy Terror."
First, a little background. I have my own bathroom. It's tastefully decorated and appointed with all the necessary amenities.
My Bathroom
Glogirly converted a walk-in shower into a lovely little stall for my litter box. The curtain provides privacy while I take care of my daily "needs." She has covered the drain so as to not create any litter clogs. The shower enclosure allows me to dig with fervor yet avoid spraying the entire bathroom with litter. She says clean up is much easier for her. I say she should clean up a bit more often. But that's a whole other story.
The Caddy
In an effort to have a place for everything and everything in its place, Glogirly hung a shower caddy inside my enclosure to house my litter essentials. Ziplocks & garbage bags. Paper towels, Dawn & Windex. Air freshener & my scoop.
Those of you that have read my most recent blog post know that the townhouse is currently under siege. Construction, scaffolding, and men with tool belts slinging sledge hammers into the side of our home all the live long day. Often, the pounding was so hard, the whole townhouse shook. I'll give you one guess what happened to the above mentioned shower caddy. That's right. It flew off the shower head and landed right on top of my box. Blocked the whole thing.
Exhibit A: Pre Trauma
Exhibit B: Post Trauma
Glogirly was off in Idaho someplace. Gloman was home but oblivious.
For what seemed like a month, I was forced to do my business whilst balancing my little kitty feet atop the metal rungs of the shower caddy. I had to do #1 AND #2 right through the metal grate. And I couldn't even reach my litter to bury. How embarrassing is THAT!
It was Gloman that finally discovered my plight. I could tell he was biting his lip to keep from laughing though. I heard him on the phone with Glogirly too. There were a couple awhhhh's, then laughing and cackling. I'd like to see THEM balance barefoot on top of the equivelant of a chain link fence while squatting over THEIR toilet!
Fortunately Gloman did eventually come to my rescue...but only after much inappropriate laughter.
I have questions, many questions.
What if I had been IN my box when this whole thing came down? What then? Would they have found me dead under a shower caddy? Buried in my own...? How would the obituary read? What would be engraved in my headstone? I'd be an embarrassment to cats across the globe.
Beware Of The Evil Shower Caddy
