Another early morning awakening by Mr. Kitty. Mrar. mrar What time is it?


Stagger out of bed to see that yes, he has food, yes he has a litterbox. What do you want, dammit? Back to the warm sheets. Mrar. Mrar Stomp, stomp, stomp. How can little padded paws make so much noise? Mrar. Mrar

Now Old Pup has woken up, and is starting to whine/growl. Hates the cat during the best of times. Okay, ignore Mr. Kitty. Don’t give in, don’t give in. Mrar. Mrar

“I’m going to let him outside,” mumbles DH.

“No, don’t,” I mumble back, knowing the cat will be eaten by ravaging raccoons. An idea occurs and I stumble back to the laundry room, grabbing the bag and pouring more expensive, compostable litter into the box.

At last! Mr. Kitty rushes the box.

With his new food, our cat has gone from never using his box to using it 3x a day or more. We’ll be able to mulch the whole yard by the end of the year with his leavings.