Ruki's Litterati Report
It's hard to remember how it all began ... probably because I was dropped out of a limousine onto my head as a kitten, so I don't recall my earliest origins -- period. All I know is that I did what any beautiful, teenage amnesiac Tabby Cat could do to get by. Living on the streets wasn't easy ... but pooping by the side of the road was. I did it wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and nobody was there to tell me I had to do it "inside the box."
However, I eventually found myself both homeless and knocked-up. I wanted my own kittens to have a chance at the good life, a chance at the luxury I had come to suspect I'd been unwittingly robbed of that fateful day I was kicked to the curb in a bad neighborhood somewhere in the middle of the Bronx.
So, I pawned myself off to (or purred my way into, depending how you look at it) the local pet rescue facility, where I gave birth. My little ones and I were quickly fostered by a kind couple who posted my photo on Petfinder.com. The kitties were easily adopted away to good homes, but not everyone wants a young, single mama cat with a bad litter-tude.
Luckily, my new mistress had a lot of patience with me. We've had our ups and downs, but ultimately I understand why she wants me to use the litter box. And I do -- for the most part. And when I don't, there's a reason.
Keep reading this column where I'll divulge the secrets, excuses, and rationalizations for why your own feisty feline refuses to properly use his or her litter box ... but also the tricks of the cat poop-scooping trade.
Scratch back 'atcha soon!