My last post had to do with toilets and what surprises could await us therein. Along that same line, I mentioned that a cat I had years ago used the toilet to pee instead of the litter box.
Nip was one of my favorites out of a parade of cats we’ve had over the years. He had all of the best attributes I want in a cat: He was sweet, loving, and smart. He loved to be kissed on the top of his head, which happens to be my favorite place to kiss a cat. He loved to sit in my lap, purring to beat the band.
And then one day, I was in the back of the house folding laundry. As a mother, I knew where my kids where and, as a wife, I knew where my husband was. And none of them were in the house. I heard some tinkling noises and realized someone was peeing in the pot in the big bathroom down the hall. I immediately, and with great apprehension (who knew what I was going to find – a thief using the facilities before he robbed us maybe?), and peeked in the door. It was Nip squatting on the pot with his back to the door. I don’t remember what I said or what noise I made, but I do remember that Nip turned his head toward me, gave me his best aggravated look, jumped down and ran out of the bathroom.
So of course, I wanted to talk to him about it, but he would have none of that. He meowed at the back door, so I let him out. But I wanted to know how he knew that the toilet was the place to pee. He was in the bathroom a lot with me (mothers never go to the bathroom without someone hanging around), but I never told him what I was doing. And even if he heard the sound of tinkling water, how did he grasp what it was and why I was doing it?
I would have thought that training a cat to use the toilet would at least require a discussion on the merits of such behavior. And, as all cat-lovers know, training a cat is usually futile. They end up training you to give them treats for minimal exertion on their part.
I remember one night when David was calling Nip in for the night. I could hear him cajoling Nip with promises of treats, a new toy mouse filled with catnip, and all manner of things. Nip just sat there on the other side of the driveway and stared at David. It was as if he had suddenly forgotten how to get from over there and across the driveway to the house.
Next thing I know, David had gone out there, picked him up, and brought him into the house.
“You know you’re going to be doing that from now on, don’t you?” I asked.
“Not after just one time,” David said confidently.
I never said I told you so, but the cold, hard fact is that Nip never came to the door at bedtime again. He was instantly trained to wait for somebody to come and get him.
But I digress. Back to the toilet. Nip continued to use the toilet from then on, but he hated to be interrupted and would quickly jump down. I wanted to get a picture, so I would immediately start to look for my camera when I heard him in there. It would have to be a quick shot, but I was determined to get at least one good picture.
I finally had to put my camera in the bathroom and leave it there. And it still took – no kidding – about a year before I finally got the shots I wanted. I don’t know how well the picture below shows it, but on the original you can see the stream. Proof positive finally captured by my camera!
I had to have extras made (this was way before digital cameras and printing your own copies). My mother had one that she framed and showed everybody who came to her house for any reason.
I really miss old Nip. He was a sweetheart. And, unlike the 2 human males living in the household at the time, he never dribbled on the toilet seat.
|BEG AS LOUD AS YOU CAN FOR GOOD COMMON SENSE.|