Tuesday, February 11, 2003

So today was my first time actually changing out the cat box, usually I just let my GF do it because I've disclaimed that the cats are more hers than mine, which may not be necessarily true, but kinda is. She paid for them, and the cats have her last name (which means absolutely nothing) and she feeds them - I look at them and do dances for them, at which point they simply give me a catty look and walk away to wash themselves for the sixtieth time that day.

I've cleaned them before, which involves scoop scoop, toss. Cleaning out the actual catbox was an entirely different experience, much like cleaning up after doo-tossing monkeys in a zoo, I expect. Ah, Toxoplasmosis. You cursed disease, you. Franklin's very responsible for the whole mess before he, unlike the other cats, likes to bury everything. There are always foreign objects in his food bowl because he buries his food after he's done chowing. So, yes. That was quite a task. Stupid cats.

I suppose this is also some sort of primer for the baby, to which I was informed, "They poop a lot."

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