Boo Radley strikes again...

Boo has really upped her game lately.  She now pees out of spite – at least that’s what I can figure.  I’m still playing the “how long can one litter box last” game, and I’m apparently losing.  I haven’t taken care of a cat in a while, and never a kitten.  BUT, I have been doing my darndest to make sure that she is happy and gets lots of love (except for that one time I left her for 10 days during fall break… J she had cat sitters, but still).  At any rate, I am to the point where I will keep her in the living room at night – I’m a light sleeper so playing with toys on my stomach at 2 in the morning tends to wake me up- so she’s not allowed in my bedroom.  She’s been pretty good with that.  She keeps herself busy, and doesn’t meow or anything until she hears my alarm in the morning.  She keeps herself so busy in fact, that two nights ago- I woke up to my iTunes playing.  I left the computer asleep, but open, and her crawling across the keys apparently started up my “Best of Cher” somehow.  It was quite surprising as the volume was loud and it was 3 in the morning, but it was a little funny.  Now, however, I am to the point that I don’t want to let her in my bedroom even while I’m home.  She is very mischievous and becomes more brazen each day.  She has scaled the cabinets in the living room, jumped out the window onto the balcony, only to peer at me through the closed class door from outside, licked honey off my piece of toast, and drank out of my water glass – even though she had a full water bowl.  Man.  This all comes with the territory however, these things I can handle.  There is one thing I can’t handle though- the peeing.  I have read many different websites (after all, the best information is on the web right?) about peeing in places other than the litter box.  The first reason they list is because the box is not clean enough.  Kittens have a heightened sense of smell, and they equate it to peeing in a dirty messy port-a-potty.  “Would you want to pee in that?” they ask…  I think to myself, I’m a runner – I’ve seen the worst of the worst, and I still pee.  But that train of thought doesn’t transfer to cats I guess. 

Last Thursday, I was very excited to wear a new shirt that I had purchased in Budapest the weekend before.  I laid it out on the guest bed in my bedroom and was ready to knock ‘em dead with my European style.  It’s a short sleeve turtleneck sweater.  It’s black and cream striped with a black neck and cuffs.  Very cute.  So, Thursday morning, I put on my new shirt and headed off for school.  (maybe you can tell where this is going…).  During the first couple of periods, I thought to myself “wow, this really has that ‘new shirt’ chemical smell.  I should have washed it before I wore it” but whatever – it still looked cute, so I forged on with confidence.  Later that day, we had an all school assembly (a topic for a different blog) and I sat next to Barna, my little goth boy.  At one point, I got a whiff of something a bit disturbing and thought “man, Barna has European BO – poor kid…” but I thought nothing of it.  I kept smelling something a bit off, so I went into the teachers lounge to check myself in the mirror, front and back, and I saw nothing.  Hmmm.  That afternoon, I traveled the 7 miles or so to Tatabanya to go to the “mall”.  Friday was “Retro” day and sadly, none of my costume wear made it into the 5 suitcases.  I was in the third store I visited trying on a pair of brown pants.  As I turned around in the fitting room, I turned around and there it was… it was only under the intense fluorescent lighting that I saw it – the lemon-yellow spot on my shirt the size of a man’s fist.  DAMN YOU BOO!  She peed right on the shoulder and front of my new shirt.  I had walked around all day – and at the mall, with a pee stain on my shirt.  Luckily, I wasn’t able to see it in regular lighting, it was only the bright lights of the fitting room that brought it to my attention, but CRAP.  My apologies to Barna, it wasn’t his BO, it was my damn cat.  UGH.  All I could really do was laugh, but be pissed (pun intended) at the same time.  The following morning, somehow she managed to get in a quick pee on my towel post shower (I think) so I’ve cut her off from access to my room.  The litterbox is clean!  I swear – in fact, it’s like she chooses to pee in it maybe every other time?  I don’t know.  Crazy cat.  By the way, don’t tell my these sporadic peeing stories, or she won’t be welcomed at home when I make my triumphant return…