Thursday, 15 October 2009

Toilet Training for Deluded Humans

You’ll never guess what the Mother Ship is proposing now.

In a contradict-me-if-you-dare tone, she announced last night that kittie litter trays were "so passe.”

“Yes, Milton" she continued, "While trawling through t’net the other day I came across a brilliant invention. It’s a system that teaches you, my cutey wutey little kittie, to go to the loo human-style. In three easy steps it shows how you can discard your litter tray and do a Jimmy Riddle in a toilet pan instead. And it's called...wait for it baby, you’re gonna love this…the Litter Kwitter!! Genius, huh?!”

Actually no, it’s not "genius" you silly, delusional, old bat. I’m happy with my soggy wooden chips thank you very much. And anyways, what If we were both bursting to pee at the same time? The Mother Ship would no doubt come out with something about me being lower down the evolutionary scale, push me aside and insist I make way for her….pronto!

Worse still, there’s no way I’m going in there after one of Dad’s marathon dumpster sessions. Gas masks? There's times when I've considered advising all the neighbours in our four-storey tenement to decamp to the nearest nuclear bunker, or at least Lidl's across the road. Despite being surrounded by products with wierd foreign names and a check-out lad with a drum-size hole in his left earlobe, it's way safer than being in the vicinity of a stinker that's sure to knock your senses sideways.

Having said that, I checked out the link and I must say, the fourth cat to take a pee, the Bengal one is a bit of alrrrrrrrright!

However, when it comes down to it, in terms of Muttie hitting the barmy scale, the hammer’s been thumped and that silver arrow is about to not just hit the bell but whack it right off.

You know, it's a real shame for me, I mean, of all the mum's in all the world, I get her....

Milt :( xxx


  1. Oh, Milt. Did your mummy (the furry one, not she who will never be obeyed) never teach you the value of discretion? We had to drag our mad-eyed human away from the computer to stop her clicking on that link.
    We agree totally on the lunacy of the litter kwitter - for much the same reasons you have outlined, especially the daddy factor. Ours is fond of emerging from their bathroom declaring proudly "I'd give it a few minutes, your majesty. I've just won Bully's star prize."
    The exact meaning escapes us (even the female tin-opener looks blankly at him) but the meaning is all too clear to our sensitive feline nostrils.
    Don't worry about the litter kwitter and the attendant humiliation, though. They're like goldfish, you know. Minute she sees a pair of shoes or a sparkly thing, whoosh ... it's gone.
    Yours in feline solidarity,
    Jez and Bootsie xxx

  2. Oh, Jez and Bootsie..."Daddy's 'Bully Star Prize!" - you pussy's have my utmost sympathy. And yes, the sparkly thing is a push-over. Jez and bootsie, you two is on my wave-length...xx

  3. Milt! You telling me you're a prisoner in your own home? You have to use these artificial flowerbeds for, well, you know...???
    Escape now! Sneak out of the house one night when that stupid old bat arrives home pissed. Escape to a cat refuge, just like I did, where I got rescued by a doddery old soul with a garden. I now have choice of all the flowerbeds in the district, dearie.
    Confined cats unite! All you have to lose are your trays!
    Mitz the bitch (as dictated to my slave, Mary, whom I've almost persuaded to organise a legacy for the cat refuge when she's dead)

  4. Mitz, I'm heading over your way...right now! x


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