Poor Shmoggleberry. He hasn't got half as much attention as he likes or deserves since Fluffy moved in. I had no idea puppies were this labour intensive, and unfortunately because Fluffy needs continual supervision and almost constant reprimanding, old Shmogg misses out a bit. I feel bad, as Shmogg is still my "firstborn" and, at the moment, he is certainly more desirable in my eyes as a pet. Not that I don't love Fluffy, of course, but her pain-in-the-arse to lovable ratio is a lot lower than Shmogg's.

Consequently I have been a bit slack with "the little things". I don't like cleaning out the litterbox anyway, and I should have learnt my lesson from the toothbrush incident, but I've had other things on my mind. Although completely gross, I suspect I don't notice that the litterbox is over-full so much these days, because (gross!!!) Fluffy helps clean up the solid waste for me. I'm very glad I don't get to see this in action, because no doubt she adds yet another coating of dog slobber to my skin soon after her little snacking episode. Therefore I don't get to see the evidence on the laundry floor outside the litterbox, ergo, my distracted and often vague little memory of mine is not alerted to the fact the litterbox needs changing.

This morning, while munching on my toast, I noticed Shmoggleberry dart across the hallway from the laundry to the bathroom. Nothing unusual in itself. He then returned to the laundry with some haste. Floor scratching sounds came my way, and I prepared my nostrils to be assaulted with cat-style fumigants. Not so. Shmogg hurried back into the bathroom and explored impatiently. After a few furtive pawing were made on the floor, and he returned to the laundry with a most worried look on his face. The dance continued.

Again he returned to the bathroom (from my vantage point I could see into the bathroom, but not the laundry) and started scratching around again, and returned, yet again, with now a very, very worried look on his face, to the laundry. Seconds later, he was back, and did his best kitty attempt to break the glass shower screen door down. Another hastily made scratching of the bathroom floor was made, and yet again he returned, with a most pained expression on his face, to the laundry.

I could hear the familiar scrape-scrape-scrape on the laundry floor, and then, instead of returning to the bathroom, he detoured to me. "M'OOOOW!" said His Highness, with utmost urgency, and continued on to the bathroom, wherewith ever increasing urgency, he made a quick pawing at the floor, tried to get through the shower door, and returned with an agonizing and most frustrated look on his face, to the laundry.

Most unusual for Shmogg, I thought, but being a bit thick, I didn't realise what was going on. I returned to my toast, and about 5 minutes later hauled my carcass over to the toilet. There, just in front of the "throne" was one of the biggest cat turds I've ever seen. Shmogg was racing around the house in his post-poo-party mode, and I was shooing Fluffy out of the smallest room of the house. (side note - Now I never get *any* peace on the loo).

Poor old Shmogg must have been literally busting. He's been well trained not to go on carpet, and although he knows that the litterbox is the preferred place of pooing, he understands that if he has to, tiled floors are an acceptable place to eliminate. As I've said in earlier posts, if the litterbox has too much solid waste, he usually goes just outside of it, on the tiles. If we've been out for the day and the spot next to the box is also full, he'll use the shower, and the last place is actually on the bathroom floor (its only gotten that bad once before). What I didn't know, until I looked later, is that Fluffy had gotten into the laundry basket and shaken the dirty clothes all over the laundry floor, and had pulled the towels in the bathroom down. As far as the busting Shmogg knew, we'd gone and carpeted the laundry and the bathroom! No wonder he had a look of desperation on his face as he tried to find an acceptable toilet. Poor, poor beastie.

I *will* change the litter regularly, I *will* change the litter regularly, I *will* change...

My slave points must be in the negative by now.

Vicky Chapman
September 9, 1999