Today I went downstairs to do my daily load of laundry - this is the only way I manage to get it done. My husband of course is a laundry saint. So if I want to be any help at all, I have to employ the one-a-day method through the week. As I was pulling laundry out of the basket, sorting into piles of white, pink & red, blue & black, green & brown, nasty towels... I heard my cat Pilar meowing at me from the door. "Hello kitty" I said as I heaped laundry around the room. She daintily picked her way through the piles to the back corner where her littler box was sitting: not exactly clean, severely lacking in sand, and dormant all these past warm months. She meowed again and I was hit with the first example of the season.
Why I Hate The Snow: Pilar is going to want me to start scooping her littler-box again.
This is my beautiful white calico kitty Pilar where she made herself comfortable in a drawer I forgot to close a couple weeks ago. I love her dearly but I'm still not sure the litter scooping is worth it.