What is it, I wonder, about putting fresh sheets on the bed that makes cats crazy? Ralph is not the first cat I've had go bonkers as I make the bed; Frank and his predecessor, Victor, also went mad as March hares on laundry days. Female felines like Celeste and Pearl seem to understand this is a chore and not a game and ignore the whole process, letting staff do the work. Ralph pounced on every crease and corner as I spread the bottom sheet, claws out as if he were fighting demons. He played hide-and-seek as the top sheet floated down. It's very difficult to make a smooth bed with a large lump tunneling across like a high-speed mole, and tucking in must be done quickly before I'm tagged as It.
What is it, I wonder, that makes the bathroom a favorite meeting spot for cats? Privacy is a thing of the past. Going potty is considered a social event. They will come out of a sound sleep to join me, even if I try to sneak in. We use our respective litter boxes, and sometimes Ralph and Celeste have their buns in their box at the same time, facing in different directions. Personally, I think this is carrying togetherness a bit too far, but then, I'm not a cat.
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I guess their dual litter box is really not much different from a two-seater out house. Who ever thought of THAT?
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