So, we live with two cats. My brother has complete responsibility for them. I just pet them and love them. Works for me.
Except, sometimes not because....well, the litter box doesn't get cleaned. Ever. I actually was almost tempted to take a picture of the powder room where the box is kept and post it but good taste stopped me.
Just...trust me. It was bad. The ONLY reason I tolerate it is because the litter box is downstairs and I live upstairs so I don't have to deal with it. I keep the doors to my bedroom and sitting room shut so those rooms are cat odor free.
Anyway, he had friends over last night. I mean, like, a party almost. To watch LOST. And, out of curiosity, I peeked in the powder room to see whether he had done anything about the litter box.
He saw me and said, "Oh YEAH!! That's right, I cleaned!! Check it, beeyotch!!"
Um. No. Okay, yes, he did get all the cat crap off the floor but the litter box itself was still one big ol' clay swamp. And the floor, with the exception of being poop free, was still pretty damned nasty.
But Greg, he couldn't be stopped, he was all proud of himself for the progress he had made.
He said, "Just look in the trash can outside, see what I did. I picked up four pounds of petrified poopy."
