Today, I finished my first paying writing gig. I felt about as excited as I did when I got my very first follower on this website. Granted, the amount I earned won’t bring me above poverty levels, but I feel like it was a million bucks and some change. Color me one happy bird. :-)
Now, while you are feeling super impressed with me, I’ll admit that all I wrote was some reviews of my favorite breeds of animals for a pet website. Don’t judge me. I made some cash. And, I immortalized Jake, Suzie, and Milo for eternity.
I do, however, feel a tiny bit guilty because I didn’t write about Maxwell Silverhammer. I couldn’t. He is ….. different.
Last year, around Christmas time, I was grappling with some horrible emotions. Chef was a lunatic which made my sanity spiral into oblivion, and I was trying to wrap my brain around everything that had just happened. So, I decided Milo needed a pet of his own.
I know. It seems odd now, but I promise, at the time, it seemed like a good idea.
Christmas time is not the time to go hunting a kitten as I would quickly find out. There were tons of adult cats trying to find homes, and exactly two kittens. And, there was a real demand for those kittens. Lots of boyfriends had waited until the last minute to get their girlfriends a tiny ball of happiness. I called about both of them, and was informed that they had been adopted out within minutes of their postings on Craigslist. One lady took my number though, saying that should the people decide the kitten didn’t fit in their family, she’d give me a call. I hung up thinking that was nice of her, but fully expecting to never hear from her again.
So, you can imagine my surprise when the next day, she called saying that the people did return the tiny, white kitten to her. I was so excited! Convinced God had pulled some strings just for me, I arranged the pick-up. A few hours later, I was in possession of the most delicate, beautiful kitten. The kitten had been advertised as a female, so I named her MaryJane’s Last Dance, and for a whopping 24 hours, she charmed us with her friendliness and delicate looks. Then, I saw her “junk”, and realized, she was a he. We renamed the kitten Maxwell Silverhammer, and it seemed that he instantly changed. I figured he was grappling with some gender issues. It happens.
Maxwell, while fascinating, beautiful, and interesting, has this one gross thing he does that I’m convinced is the reason he was rejected from not one, but two, homes. I should have really questioned why he was a reject at Christmas time with every cat loving human being in Oklahoma trying to find a kitten under two months old. Turns out, he likes cat litter so much, he won’t poop in it. Instead, he perches his pink butt over the side of the cat box and relieves himself on the floor. Evidently, he believes that my entire home is his bathroom, but the litter box is what needs to stay clean. Yet, he does urinate in it. I’m speechless. He really lost some of his appeal each time I had to disinfect the floor around the cat box….. repeatedly.
In the 8 months I’ve had him, I’ve spent quite a bit of time trying to find the right way to train Stinky. I’ve had every kind of cat box they make. I tried treats. (Yeah. That was a joke.) I don’t spank cats, so that was out. Finally, I bought a bin with sides so high I had to put steps to the top. And finally! That one worked. But Milo, who has the bum hip, can’t handle the hike up and the jump down into the deep cavern that is now Milo’s toilet. So what did Milo do? He simply sits by the front door when he has to go out. Yep. Milo inadvertently shone a spotlight on just how not bright Max is.
I don’t care if Max isn’t playing with a full deck. He cuddles with me, never lets me be lonely in the bathroom, and wakes me up early so I don’t sleep all day. And now that he is pooping in the litter box, all is well in my world.
- Reasons Why Your Cat Uses Your Entire House as a Litter Box (veterinary.answers.com)