Human litterbox hygeine is pants.

Large clean litterbox

Which would you prefer? It's obvious, isn't it?

The bottom one is small, full of pee and poo, not very much litter and a horrible plastic sheet at the bottom that will interfere with digging.

Yet humans are still expecting us to use this kind of litterbox. They would be disgusted at a lavatory full of pee and poo. 

They think we will manage somehow! And many of us do, putting up with trying not to get our feet wet. Ugghhh. But it is not good enough. 

Box with deposits

Why are they so lazy? They are far better at getting rid of their own bowel and bladder deposits? Most of them flush regularly. Why be so idle about ours? 

Alas, the only way to get your human to be less slovenly is to pee or poo outside the box.  That'll show them.

We hear what you cannot

 

Our world is full of tiny high squeaks, squeals and chirps from little rodents, bats and baby birds. We hear the world differently from humans. You humans can't hear these at all.

We can also hear tiny high pitched buzzing and clicking and creaking noises from machinery - from washing machines, dishwashers, smoke detectors, and maybe even radiators. You think these household machines are silent: they are not to us.

So do us a favour. Don't put the litter tray in the utility room where such machines are active. We want some decent quiet and isolation where we urinate or open our bowels. How would you like to have to use the lavatory in the middle of a busy packing factory or a car repair garage? 

You'd hate it. We hate it. So we keep our eliminations to a minimum, which is bad for our kidneys.  Or we just go outside the tray.

Humans, remember this. We can hear what you cannot.

Litter tray problems are due to humans

 

It's time to be clear. So-called cat problems are nothing of the kind. True, they may be problems for humans: but they are not problems for us.

It's natural and sensible for a sensitive cat to stop using a tiny litter tray, or a litter tray filled with the wrong kind of litter, or a tiny tray which we cannot dig properly. Or a tray with such a mean amount of litter that we scrape our claws against the plastic.

I mean, what do they expect us to do?

Would they like a lavatory full of poop and pee? Or one that they could not flush (the human equivalent of digging)? Or one that didn't flush enough water? Would they like a toilet so small that their bottoms spread over the side? 

Come off it, humans. It's time for you to take responsibility. What do we want? 

Large litter trays, familiar litter, enough of it so we can dig properly, and cleaning. Yes, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. At least twice a day.

Small and dirty litter trays = slovenly humans.

Dear George,
I have a problem with my litter tray. It is too small. Look at it. I am not a large cat but she has given me a tray that is only just my size. In order to dig I have to leave my bottom outside it, dig the hole, then turn round and place my bottom over the hole. It's difficult. 
Worse still she doesn't keep it clean enough. I am digging through my own waste. She only clears it out once a day and sometimes once two days. I hate getting my paws soiled. And yet that is what I have to do each time I want to use it.

My litter tray - too small, too dirty

I have a cat flap but I never use it because I am frightened of the big cat next door who bullies me. I dare not use the flowerbeds in case he attacks me while I am toileting....
What to do?
Yours
Betty the Birman.


Dear Betty,
You have only one choice. You will have to start going outside the tray. Yes, I know you don't want to. But what else can you do to get the message across?
Small litter trays and slovenly humans are a bug bear of mine. They wouldn't want to have to pick their way through human waste products in order to relieve themselves. Particularly if, like us, they had bare feet. Why make us do it?
I made my views very clear to Celia who has given a short talk on the topic to her fellow humans. Get yours to look at it here.
Yours
George

Are humans entitled to more privacy?

Dear George,

Here is the question of the week; are humans really entitled to more privacy than us?

The reason I’m asking you this is because you are an expert in human behaviour and lately I had some rundowns with my human female, of course!

I think she is a pathetic hypocrite; first of all, if she’s using the bathroom she’s closing the door. Why? When I’m using the bathroom she gets in and checks the litter box “to see what I did”. How sick is this? Do I look in her water bowl? She doesn’t even have a proper litter box – they use something that flashes! Phew! If she’s taking a shower, again, she pulls a curtain all the way so I can’t see what she’s doing in the bathtub. I’m sure she’s embarrassed that she is incapable of grooming herself the proper way like we, the cats do. Guess….she doesn’t have enough saliva so she does have to use that thing that spits out water and they call it a shower. Why does she need a curtain? Does she have something to hide? I, for sure, have nothing to hide as you can see in the photo. I can groom and clean myself anywhere in the house even if I’m not pleased at all when they are taking photos of me grooming or start giggling looking at me. I usually ignore them but, today I got really pissed when she yelled “hey, can I have some privacy in this house”? Then, again….WHY? I don’t have these problems with my daddy! Are human females prude or just plain hypocrites? Are they really entitled to more privacy?

Truly distressed

Fluffy

Dear Fluffy, 

Human behaviour is sometimes extremely odd. Many humans seem to have an obsession about being private during perfectly normal activities, such as eliminating and washing.  It's impossible to know why for sure. Maybe they are ashamed of their bodies because they don't have proper fur? Though hairless Sphinx cats don't behave in this way. I'm glad that your male human doesn't have this hang up - though it's slightly odd to me that males usually spray in the same place, the ceramic bowl. 
Entitled to more privacy? I think not. Humans don't really have rights, like cats do. They are not entitled to anything. But we can look at it another way.  We have duties of care towards them. If your human female doesn't want to let you into the bathroom (due to shame or prudery or perhaps fur envy), it would be kinder of you just to stay away. She can't help it: it's just one of the many human failings.
Yes, I do think they have to use water because they don't have enough saliva. And that pathetic thing they call a tongue. Can't do anything much with that except for a small lick. It's smooth not rough and it doesn't have proper muscle. They can't help that either.
So there you are, Fluffy. We have to accept them as they are, poor things. And remember to be kind to them.

Keep calm and carry on,
George.

What's wrong with using the bathtub? It's easy for them to clean up...

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Dear George,
What is a bathtub? And what is its purpose? I'm quite perplexed by my humans' behaviour. Recently we moved again. Yes! I don't expect you to remember how many times we moved so far but, YES, we moved again.  First we moved into a new flat which was ok since I made it my own. Then, we moved in with the "other" human (who had 3 cats - at least we all came from the same shelter) and I had to share everything including my human.  Now we moved to a bigger house which is fine except that I can't find a damn thing anymore so I started using what humans call a "bathtub" as my litter box.
Wasn't this a brilliant idea? Do you see anything wrong with this? I don't but they're making such a big fuss about it. The other cats go to the basement. Well, I don't want to go there. So, what's wrong that I turned the bathtub into my big, comfortable litter box? I like it! It has a nice touch! And I like the color! The other day I heard one of them saying " again? he did it again? what do we do now; how can we use it"?  George, do you think they want to use it as their litter box as well? Are they trying to steal it from me? What should I do?

Yours perplexed
Vegas

Dear Vegas,

Perplexed? I am not surprised. They are just so odd.  In the room with the bathtub, there is a second device know as a lavatory which they use as a litter tray. The only difference is that this contains water. I have sometimes wondered if humans expect us to wait till the bath is full of water (like the human litter box) and then relieve ourselves. But something tells me that they wouldn't like that either. Humans are so unreasonable.

So I think you have to purrsuade them to do something about the litter boxes. Obviously you are trying to get a message to them. There should be one litterbox for each individual, and then one extra just so we cats have a choice. Have they put down enough of them? Just putting them all in the same location is also not at all pleasing for us. They need to be spaced out in different locations. We don't want to have to use a litter tray with another cat standing by, or have to queue for entry. Humans don't like queuing for the chance to eliminate: why do they think is it acceptable to ask us to do so? 

They could put a litter box in the bathroom for you, or in the utility room, or somewhere nice and secluded and then cover the bath with something like netting. Just expecting you to use the basement when you don't feel like it or feel anxious about the other cats, is unreasonable.  What they probably don't understand is that we cats get used to a certain feel under our feet: now you are getting used to the bathtub feel. If they don't act soon it will be too late.....

If all else fails, use their bed. Then, with a bit of luck, they will call in a cat behaviour expert....

Yours in sympathy

George.
PS. Some cats teach themselves to use the human litter tray but it is very awkward to balance on the seat.

Accompanying your human to the lavatory.... any chance of a goldfish?

Dear George,
I am a little worried about something. I have been in the habit of accompanying my human to her litter tray. I feel it is a way I can offer her support and, besides, I enjoy looking down the pan when she has flushed it. I keep hoping, as I watch the water whirl around, that something interesting might turn up - a goldfish, perhaps.
What do you think, George? Should I stop this practice? Sometimes I think she enjoys my company in the bathroom. At other times I worry in case I might interfere with her toilet habits by showing my affection.
I purr and rub against her legs.
Yours anxiously,
Bertie Catster.

Dear Bertie,
Your anxiety about human welfare has to be applauded. Some cats just wouldn't worry about it. That you do is a tribute to your empathy and responsibility to the lesser species. If only all cats thought about their human pets....
Personally, I think humans enjoy our company when they are using their litter trays. I would hate it if my human started petting me, as I used the tray. But I am not a human. Different species have different behaviours.
One great advantage of winding round their legs while they use the tray is that they will not fall over. Very elderly humans can be unsteady on their feet, and an affectionate cat can topple them very easily. Rubbing against them while they are securely seated is a way of showing affection safely.
Moreover, there is another advantage. I don't know how you feel about being picked up and cuddled. Frankly I don't appreciate it. I enjoy affection from my human but cuddling goes a bit too far. A human on its litter tray cannot cuddle. They can bend down and stroke but cannot pick us up. Another reason for accompanying them to the bathroom.
So put aside your anxieties and continue your activities,
George.
PS. Like you I have always hoped that a  fish might turn up in water.... no such luck.

Revenge on your human

Dear George,
How many cats do you know who enjoy sharing same bathtub or same litter box? I bet none or extremely few (if any)!
Then, tell me George, why humans enjoy bathing in other people’s pools or bathtubs or seas? That’s a weird thing to do and my humans seem to enjoy it! They went to Mexico (no less) to do just this. Hellooooo? Mexico? They can’t even speak the language! They are completely unable to say correctly “Hola” What if they are in an emergency? How are they going to say “ayuda por favor”
Phew! I should be worried for them but I’m too furious; I’m fuming with anger! I AM MAD! They locked me up in the house for a week just to go and abuse the Mexican beaches and pools and whatever! I mean…..they left me home with Auntie C, but she is too afraid to let me outside. Plus, she constantly talks, making those silly calls: kitty-kitty, kitty-kitty and then some hilarious sounds. She’s telling me stories all day! Hey; I don’t want to hear dumb stories about good cats! I want to go outside and inspect my territory! Ugh! I wish Zorro scare them away with that big “Z” on their door and send them back home! Ah, George, they have no idea yet how dearly they are going to pay for this indiscretion! I’ll request to be fed (by hand) with my favourite food at the most unusual hours! First shrimps, then canned food, then cooked food! I’ll be asking for almost 24 hours door service. The minute they are asleep…I’ll make sure I’ll wake them up! And these are just few ideas. George, please feel free to suggest more. Por favor! I welcome any idea from our feline blogosphere. Meanwhile, I pretend…. I’m sunbathing (sic)…as you can see in the photo.
Diego

Dear Diego,
Human beings are just dumb animals - can't speak feline body language like we do, and generally don't think like we do. The behaviour of your humans is typical of this very limited species. Good cats indeed! What on earth does this Auntie C. think she is doing! What she really means is stupid cats who do what their humans want. (There are a few of these but fortunately not too many). No wonder you are sick to death of her meaningless vocalisations.
The human obsession with water is really rather pathetic. Due to the floppiness and ineffectiveness of their tongues, they can't wash properly. They can't even reach the bits that need washing. We can lean round and wash every area of our body. Their bodies are so stiff and unmoving that they can't do this. Thus the water. They use water in their human litter tray (usually a kind of white bowl that flushes), they throw their whole bodies into a bath of water, or stand under water as it falls from the ceiling of a shower. Odd. Well, not just odd. Properly weird.
Yes, make them suffer, Diego. The best time to wake them up is the first night of their arrival. They will be tired after their journey. You can torture them with affection, so they don't even realise your true motives. Jump on the bed. Purr down their ears. Rub against their faces. Miaow. Give their cheeks little pats. Back up against their faces so that if their eyes open, the first thing they will see is a winking backside. They will think you have missed them and are being loving. You know you have missed them and you are furious.
Here are some more ideas - pee on their open suitcase before they have unpacked: scratch the mirror (makes a teeth-grating noise): jump on kitchen surfaces and the table where they are eating: trip them up: dig so furiously in the litter tray and litter flies out everywhere: leap into their arms or on to their shoulders from a distance: sit in all the doorways: scratch the furniture in front of their very eyes: poke your nose right into their coffee cups..... and all this before you have scratched them directly or bitten them.
Or you can be very dignified indeed and simply refuse to take any notice of them. Sit looking out of the window wistfully with your back towards them. Refuse to stay in the same room with them. Refuse to share the bed. This shunning treatment can really upset a sensitive human.
It's all good feline stuff.
George

Teasing my human on the toilet.

Dear George.
I love your blog! So impressed that you have your human trained to transcribe it for you. I tried it once but my humans were too dense to keep it up.
In revenge for their stupidity I have discovered that one of my habits is infinitely confusing to them. I should first explain that as an indoor cat living in a small house, my litter tray is tucked away in the bathroom next to the big porcelain one the overdeveloped apes use. I wait until the female is using her litter tray and then wander in to use mine. Of course I have to drape my tail over her leg while I get myself in position, then, as I go I can gaze up at her. This REALLY confuses the human. If she tries to move before I'm done to get her hands wet (why do they do that, can't they keep themselves clean without involving water?) I'll tell her off, maybe even swipe at her leg, and then start again. If I don't need to go then I can just sit between her feet. It's best if she's wearing trousers as then I can get in them and control when she can move again.
Most importantly I rarely do this with the male one, only the female. They are really confused and, even better, occasionally unnerved by my behaviour.
My problem - which I have considerable difficulty admitting, even to your good self - is that the truth of the matter is that I have absolutely no idea why I am compelled to do this. I was wondering if you had any ideas?
Yours,
Mog

Dear Mog,
We are in deep waters here. On the one hand you are teasing your human in a splendidly creative, possibly even a triumphant way. I particularly like the inbuilt punishment if she moves before you want her to. And that splendid little addition of climbing into her trousers and sitting there to stop her moving. This is cat control at its best. I congratulate you.
However, I also understand that you are worried about this.... and I can see why. All of us get used to a certain ritual around toileting. Humans, for instance, often feel the need to read at the same time. We cats often have digging rituals - one dig to the right, one to the left, for instance. Some of us turn round before: others turn round afterwards for inspection. Some insist on using only one side of the litter tray. And so forth. Your ritual now involves a human.
What I fear is that this may become a dependency. If you get too used to the human presence, you may begin to find it difficult to eliminate when she is not there. And, of course, though it is only a relatively unimportant question of human rather than feline welfare, the same may happen to her. You may both find a certain difficulty in performing without the other's presence.
Be warned. Do not take this splendid game too far. We cat must never ever become dependant on human affection or even a human presence. Independance on the toilet, as well as elsewhere, must be maintained. So try to keep this human tease within moderation. Use your litter tray at least once a day without her presence.
Happy New Year to all Felines
George.
PS. If you will forgive a personal remark - what splendid white whiskers you have.

Intriguing... mmmm.... inside the lavatory

When I first came across the big white water bowl I was a kitten. Naturally I jumped on the edge to investigate, then fell in and had to be pulled out by Celia. After that she kept the lid down. Later, when I was a teenager I jumped in again just to see what happened and jumped out by myself. Something about the big white bowl always intrigues me.
Of course, now I know it is a litter tray rather than a drinking fountain. Humans only put their head in it after a very late night. Most of the time they are well trained to use it for both pee and poo. Strangely, the species uses water instead of sand, though I am told in desert areas they sensibly use sand instead of water. Better for the environment, of course. Humans could, if they chose, turn round, have a good look, sniff and cover it up. In Germany, apparently humans do some of this. They make a deposit on a sort of shelf, turn round, take a good look, and even sniff a bit before pulling the chain. In the UK they tend just to deposit and flush.
It's the flushing bit that intrigues me. You see the deposit disappearing down a hole, propelled by a whoosh of water. Not unlike a mouse disappearing down a hole, only mice don't need water. I can't resist watching it. I'd like to do a bit of research into the earlier part of this procedure but humans get embarassed if you try to see what is going on by putting your head down the loo between their legs. I suppose that's instinct. They choose seclusion (not unlike us) for evacuating their bowels. Probably goes back to the days when they were prey for large felines like lions. I mean when you are defecating you are unable to run away.
I am not a lion or even a black panther. But at heart I am a feline hunter. Maybe Celia and Ronnie have an ancestral fear when I lurk round their litter bowl as they are on it.

Mud, puddles, ponds and the pleasures of water.

I like mud. I like puddles. I like ponds. I like getting my feet wet and I wade through puddles, as well as drinking from them. Mud is fun too. My black paws sink into mud in a very satisfying way. The first time I fell into the garden pond was when the ice broke under me. Then I fell in out of curiosity. Then I fell in again for the sheer fun of it. I liked the way Celia screamed and rushed towards the pond ready to lift me out for some resusitation. Quite unnecessary. I can swim. I discovered that the second time I fell in. The first time, when I was a kitten, Celia fished me out with the pond net. Now she knows that I don't need her help, thank you very much.
Puddles are another matter. I like the way the water sparkles on them and I wade slowly through them instead of skirting round the edge. I also sometimes lie down low in them so that the bottom of my tail gets wet too. Wet wet wet is fun. Of course I also enjoy splashing them with my paw, in the same way that I splash any water I find in a saucepan. The water coming out of a tap is interesting too - so I either drink from the tap or I splash it with my paw. William isn't interested, except when the lavatory flushes. He rushes over to watch the water going down the bend. Oddly enough I don't find this human litter tray very satisfying though I am getting more interested. My reluctance may be because, when I was a kitten, I fell in. Luckily Celia was there to pull me out. Kittens do sometimes drown because they can't get out.
The best thing about water is the human reaction. After a nice time wading through puddles and skittering about in the mud, I come in feeling affectionate. I leap on to Ronnie's lap and he shouts "Get that filthy cat off!" Celia would be pathetically grateful if I lept on her lap so I never do. Instead I leap onto her desk and put mud on the documents there. She doesn't shout. She picks me up and cuddles me. She knows that is wrong. She knows she should ignore me. But she doesn't. The whole science of training (which she has studied) is ignored in favour of cuddles. Poor woman.