There has been a spate of porch-poopings at the Mansion! No, I don't blame Farmer H. These are solid poops, nothing smear-worthy.
I first noticed a few weeks ago, when THAT DOG was romping around every time I tried to get from kitchen door to garage. It was in the area of Gassy G Lite. I figured maybe THAT DOG had pooped, not being familiar with the big outdoor toilet used by Juno and Jack. It's the grove of trees out behind Shackytown Boulevard, where the sinkholes lie.
Last week, there was another collection of poops, on the back porch, in the area overlooking the fake fish pond. Huh. Farmer H, of course, blamed my little Jack. I don't know why my small dog is Farmer H's colossal scapegoat. I pointed out how long Jack has been with us (four years), without pooping on the porch. A half-heeler doesn't change his spots.
A couple days ago, the poop field was on the other side of the steps leading from the porch to garage. Same size. Same scattered pattern. I'd started thinking that perhaps a critter was getting up on the porch at night. The dogs go crazy sometimes. Maybe a raccoon. Or a possum. Or...
WAIT A MINUTE!
The last time I had that theory was when something was pooping in the garage. And we remember how THAT turned out. Don't we? The wildlife camera set up by Farmer H and The Pony, which revealed the culprit to be... OUR BLACK TUXEDO CAT, STOCKINGS!
He's the only living cat left around here. He's looking pretty rough. I have a feeling that some of the noise I hear at night is the Grim Reaper, tap-tap-tapping at Death's door, asking for authorization to have a consultation with Stockings.
Yesterday, the poops were on the landscaped lava rocks beside the garage door.
It's pretty hard to point out the error of his ways to a CAT. Stockings is (and HAS, from the looks of the poops), a big butthole. He has always been quite aloof, shunning our kind words and touch. I don't imagine any type of training is likely at this stage of his life. A dissuasion, maybe.
I'm open to ideas...
7 comments:
The Grim Reaper... Having a "consultation" with Stockings?
Quite funny. That one made me laugh.
Sorry I don't have advice. It's been a long time since we've had cats, and they were indoor ones, so they pooped in the kitty litter pan. Good luck.
Sioux,
I fear that Stockings is trying to set the record for longest-living cat. It's time for him to go to a farm upstate. I guess lounging around for nigh on 17 years, avoiding our touch, eating twice as much as any other cat, and getting humped by Jack...lead to longevity.
Perhaps you could convince Farmer H to paint a multi-colored bridge on one of his shacks--a bridge that includes all the colors of the rainbow--and see if Stockings heads that way.
A dissuasion would involve catching him in the act and scaring him to a different spot, or putting strong smelling stuff everywhere he has pooped and is likely to poop, to have him find a nicer spot far away from the porch and surrounds.
Sioux,
Farmer H could easily do that. I don't think Stockings would fall for it, any more than he'd pack his cat kibble in a red bandana tied to a stick, and head for a farm upstate.
***
River,
Heh, heh! At first I thought you were referring to Part 1, and Farmer H's pooping issue!
Hey! That could work! Great idea.
River,
Or you idea for the toilet beside the Freight Container Garage!
Post a Comment