As is typical of Portuguese housing, our bathroom is quite small. Space considerations necessitate that my cat’s litter box be located right next to the toilet—actually, between the toilet and the bidet.
And as is typical of many Portuguese, we don’t use our bidet for its design purpose. We use it to hold books and magazines, occasional stacks of laundry, and most importantly, the roll of toilet paper. The only other place we could put the toilet paper is on the wall behind the toilet—where you’d have to be triple-jointed to successfully acquire any—or on one of those free-standing doodads, for which we have no space. The bidet works perfectly, and is at just the right angle for ease of reach.
This morning, however, I was sleepy and blind in the dark bathroom (and wasn’t about to turn on the light), and I fumbled the roll of toilet paper, dropping it right into the litter box.
Now, I keep that litter box scrupulously clean, so normally this wouldn’t have been a problem. Unfortunately, at this particular moment, the litter box was occupied. With a cat, whom I did not see in the dark. And that cat was right in the middle of a protracted activity which occurs at the end point of the digestive process.
Upon having a roll of toilet paper dropped on her head, the cat bolted out of the litter box in mid-squat. But since she was not yet done with her protracted activity, she had to finish it where she’d skidded to a stop. And yes, the path of her exit from the litter box was also well-marked.
So that was my morning. I will say that nothing wakes one up quite like having to clean up a self-caused disaster. Also, I hope I didn’t give my cat a complex.
In unrelated news, blog readers who have enjoyed my fiction in the past may be interested in the interview that well-known lesfic author Jae conducted with me last week. Jae is good at asking questions that make a person think.