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The Litter Box Room
By Simba Bear
(penned by Uncle Bear)
Honest and true, she's a good woman. Let me rephrase that, she's a
perfect lady --- except for one fault. She does her best to bar me from "The
Litter Box Room" when she's in there.
It makes no difference if she steps in the litter box room for a half minute
emerging with every hair in place or disappears for 45 minutes returning
warm, damp and looking radiant, she still excludes me.
As women's best friends, we special felines take our duties around the
house very seriously, and assisting them when they're in the litter box room
is paramount.
Think about it! What other creature is equal to us at staring at our
mistresses and displaying such clear facial expressions as: "I thought you
were going to lose weight?" "Yes, that's another gray hair." "Do you really
need all those potions?" or "How long are you going to just sit there?"
Of course we're also great at keeping our mistresses entertained and on
their toes. Every one of us cats are really kittens at heart. We all learned
very quickly how to switch the running water in the sink from hot to cold
and vice-versa. In addition, each of us is proficient at causing a loud noise
by knocking something big, but always unbreakable, to the floor the exact
moment her hair-drying towel blocks her vision.
I must confess I believe the interaction between us during her bubble-
bath is the highlight of our bonding time. If I'm able to stealthily gain
entrance to the litter box room when her only desire is to lie quietly in a
bathtub full of water, bubbles and smelly stuff, I stay out of sight.
Quietly I wait, and after a while she closes her eyes and begins to drift into
relaxing slumber. Slowly I place myself at the side of the tub just within her
reach. Taking deep breaths to maximize my voice volume, I wait until she
reaches the moment of total relaxation. Then I begin to yowl for her
complete attention.
No matter how fast she becomes fully awake and alert, just as she lunges
for me, I'm able to scoot beyond her reach. Then she always utters the
special words she has reserved for times like these. If, on the other hand,
I'm unable to enter and seat myself beside her tub, there are other duties I
can perform from outside the litter box room: Scratching on the door or
waving a paw frantically under it, meowing loudly or jiggling the doorknob.
No amount of noise from her side has ever deterred my actions.
Sometimes I find myself wondering if we cats have it all wrong. Perhaps
we ought to ease up on helping our mistresses. However, in discussion with
other felines, we're in absolute agreement. In the end, there's always a
warm lap, a lot of petting, and once in a while a treat.
Litter Box Room
Uncle Bear is a writer and researcher in North Carolina. He can be reached through:
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