I am outraged! I have witnessed something that no civilized kitty should ever have to witness! I have seen a horror that cannot be unseen. I walked into the closet and there it was on the floor. I froze when I saw it, unable to believe My own eyes. It was…well…see for yourself!
Poo! It was poo! And it was where it absolutely does NOT belong! Because it was so unbelievable, I thought that maybe someone was playing a joke on Me. I had to investigate more closely to be sure it really was what I thought it was.
I recoiled in disgust, and called for Brother Oliver. He is, after all, the most studious kitty in our household when it comes to litter box use and cleanup. He entered the room, gasped and then immediately investigated the poo himself.
As Brother Oliver was investigating, I asked him if he thought this could be the work of Brother Henry, or if possibly a different poopetrator had snuck into the house from outside. Brother Oliver considered these questions for a moment, and then he turned to Me with an odd look on his face. He said, “Leader Otis, I’m not sure who did this horrific thing, but my instincts tell me that whoever it is he or she is a very creative kitty.” I asked him what he meant, and he continued, “Well, just think about it. This is someone who is not constrained by normal conventions. They obviously question feline societal norms and attempt to push boundaries. In short, they aren’t afraid…” At this point he paused for a moment, and I thought I saw a hint of mischievousness behind his eyes before he exclaimed, “TO POOP OUTSIDE THE BOX!” He then burst into laughter.
I was not amused by Brother Oliver’s casual attitude to this affront to the high standards of hygiene that I demand in My Indoor Domain. I think he detected My annoyance because he quickly departed; although he was still giggling as he did so. I plopped down on the floor and glared at the offending poopage, wondering what to do next.
Eventually, the Guardians came home. When they did, the thought occurred to Me that if they walked into the closet and saw Me staring at the poo, they might think I was the “free-thinker”, so to speak. So I did the responsible thing. I got the heck out of there and hid in the shadows by the furnace. As the Guardian entered the closet, I silently slipped by the door and ran upstairs. As I retreated, I could hear the Guardian say, “What the…”, and then I topped the stairs, dashed through the kitchen, jumped up on the couch, and settled in as if I had been there all along. The funny thing is, Brother Oliver was already there when I arrived, and his tail-end smelled a little too strongly of poo…
So Sayeth Otis