Isn't she something? Isn't she glorious? All things in this house revolve around Foster. As I've mentioned before, this is Foster's universe, and we are but her subjects. We can't move into our master bedroom (currently storage) because she's taken up residence in a chair. And while we've finally convinced her that she can share a litter box with our other cat, Foot Foot (aka Psycho Calico), and she consented to have said litter box moved to a convenient, private closet? I'll get to the point. The cat is peeing all over the damned house.
First it was Totsi the Dog's bed. She did that more than once, in plain view of my husband. Then she peed all over Totsi's blankiepillow - it's a blanket rolled up like a pillow, and had been placed to the side of the bed while the bed was being cleaned. She peed on the bathroom counter, right at the sink. And two days ago, she peed on a bathroom rug - even going so far as to bunch it up when she finished as though burying what she'd just done. *Soaked* that mofo with a vengeance, too - just after having been to the litter box. Had I mentioned that she'd JUST used the litter box?
(Note - this isn't always related to having just used the litter box. It's happened at random, too. And it doesn't have anything to do with the litter box being moved - she took this up a few weeks beforehand.)
This morning, Foster went to the litter box, took care of her business, came back inside, and proceeded to try to take care of a little more business in the bathroom. I shut the door, and she strolled into the kitchen for breakfast. Once full, while lounging on top of the fridge, evidently it dawned on her she'd not yet christened the hallway. Hopped off the fridge, waltzed into the damned hall, and assumed the position. I'm glad I was suspicious enough to follow, otherwise I'd still be scrubbing. Upon catching her, I performed a lively interpretive dance for her with the water bottle I seem to always be carrying. Then she went into what's to be our master bedroom, and tried to do the same in not just one, but (now, get this) THREE places. Once she finally registered that my head was about to explode, she looked very upset (we can't have that), so I changed tracks and singsong cussed out the cat while trying to lure her back out to the litter box with a piece of cheese. ("Tum onnn, Foss-terrrrrr, git deh FUCKING cheeeeeeeese.....TUM ONNNNNNN, kitty kitty, cheeeeeeeese, FUCKING yummy cheeeeeeeese....") She cooperated, kind of. Stepped into the litter box, turned around, and came back out.
Which is leading me to wonder if she actually did something somewhere that I didn't manage to catch. I have a headache.
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