The Art of Unmasking the Odor
If our new apartment wasn’t white on white on white (typical…), it would be green.
My gift to our kitten, Mick, when we moved into the new place was a brand new litter box. It was a gift to him because it was new, clean, and uncut (we mangled his previous box when he was too small to jump in), and a bit of a gift to myself as well because it was triple-layered with an option to sift clumped litter instead of manually scooping it out.
Well, it turns out that this double-priced litter box was not a good fit for Mick. Here’s why:
My kitten likes to stand (on his hind legs) when he goes. Maybe it’s a boy thing. My kitten, when standing, often misses his target. Now I know that’s a boy thing.
The new litter box was double the height, advertised that its tall frame “reduces litter spills.” What it causes, at least in Mick’s case, was a puddle of golden sunshine crusting behind the litter box for only my nose to find.
Lastnight when I got home from school at 9:15pm, eager to get a good night’s sleep before the alarm would go off at 5:45am, I was halted and instead dumped Mick’s old litter, cleaned the box, and started fresh.
Then I get a text message from my boyfriend before I got home from work tonight: This stench is incredible. Something’s gotta be done.
Clorox. Clorox. Clorox. Clorox.
Another late night of cleaning and I’m getting dizzy from all these fumes–I just hope all this Clorox pays off!
A Post-Grad's Journey Towards Domestication 