Janet
December 14th 08, 03:24 AM
A couple of days ago my cat was driving me somewhat crazy all
afternoon/evening, following me around and meowing. I checked her food and
water, and made sure that the bathroom door was open so that she could get
to her litter box, which I made sure was clean. She didn't appear ill: she
was just driving me nuts. I picked her up, I patted her, I could not figure
out what was bothering her. I was very busy (I work at home and this is my
peak season). I worked until about 4 am--that gives you some idea of how
busy I was--and finally went to bed. When I arose about 4 hours later, I
found that she had pooped in the hallway outside my bedroom, something she
never does. (And it was a lot, about twice what I usually scoop out of her
box, so it appeared she had been holding it for a while.) I went to check
her litter box again, and discovered that the swinging door had somehow
gotten jammed and she couldn't get in. Poor baby was trying to tell me all
evening! But what really impressed me was that she had peed, not on the
floor or on a rug, but very carefully IN the plastic bag next to her box in
which I was keeping the bags I use to dispose of the scoopings from the
box. What a good girl. And of course I feel very guilty for not having
figured out what she was trying to tell me.
afternoon/evening, following me around and meowing. I checked her food and
water, and made sure that the bathroom door was open so that she could get
to her litter box, which I made sure was clean. She didn't appear ill: she
was just driving me nuts. I picked her up, I patted her, I could not figure
out what was bothering her. I was very busy (I work at home and this is my
peak season). I worked until about 4 am--that gives you some idea of how
busy I was--and finally went to bed. When I arose about 4 hours later, I
found that she had pooped in the hallway outside my bedroom, something she
never does. (And it was a lot, about twice what I usually scoop out of her
box, so it appeared she had been holding it for a while.) I went to check
her litter box again, and discovered that the swinging door had somehow
gotten jammed and she couldn't get in. Poor baby was trying to tell me all
evening! But what really impressed me was that she had peed, not on the
floor or on a rug, but very carefully IN the plastic bag next to her box in
which I was keeping the bags I use to dispose of the scoopings from the
box. What a good girl. And of course I feel very guilty for not having
figured out what she was trying to tell me.