Memo...

Dear #(%*(&$ cats,

That place with the curtain at the end of the small room that contains the thing you two like to fight behind is called a "shower". And those nice, soft piles of fabrics that I put in there in a large basket so they would not add to the hazard created by the two of you in the hallway? Those are called "laundry". "Laundry" is a very different thing than the box of what is, essentially, scented gravel set up especially for the two of you to use in two very particular ways. Neither of said ways should have happened in "laundry". Both did.

You might be wondering how we know it was both of you. Foster, I saw you walking out of the shower, and commented on how cute that was. And, Foot Foot, hopping on the "laundry", after I had moved it out into the hall to dump it into the washing machine, as soon as I walked away from it and assuming THAT POSITION was a dead giveaway. Plus, there's just no way one cat can do that much of what Foot Foot assumed the position to do.

But for now, it is semi-okay. I have other spare comforters to replace the two that are now in a tightly-sealed bag awaiting trash pickup on Thursday. And we are back to the habit of keeping that bathroom door closed so the two of you cannot get back into the shower and do the same on the floor in yet another round of competing for space. Kindly refrain from indulging in either activity anywhere outside your designated box of scented gravel, aka "litter box".

Thank you,

Merciless Goddess of the Water Bottle