And I say that with all the love and affection in my heart for MY three cats Sox (a.k.a. Old Man Kitty), Midnight Rose (Bowling Ball Kitty), and Tiger Lily (Meany). You see how much I love them? Each of them has a nickname.
But we're having some bathroom issues right now. When I say "we", I mean the cats. Old Man Kitty and Meany dash in and out of the house with determination and frequency, so the prime suspect is Midnight Rose. She used to sit inside the front door and act like she was desperate to go out, but too afraid to do so. Then when she finally would go out, she would dash to the vacant house next door and hang out there. She would look longingly at our house and meow afraid to come back home. I would then go get her and bring her back.
Did you notice how many "woulds" were in that paragraph?
That is because I am telling you what would happen before she was relegated to the outside where she can now pee in freedom.
She had several chances to do right. We put a second litter box upstairs as it seemed somebody (prime suspect M.R.) was too lazy to walk down the stairs to do her business. We kept those boxes cleaned out as often as we possibly could. We closed doors to keep her and her cat buddies only in certain rooms, and so forth.
But life is so precious, and my free time is so infrequent. I really don't want to spend it playing "Where is that smell coming from?" And even worse would be to get to the place where the smell isn't even noticeable to me. And then a visitor comes in the house, and they have this look on their face.
The horror. The horror.
I know the look because I've been in houses where other cats have peed in private and it wasn't discovered, and the house smelled like a great big litter box. I've worn that look.
I just don't want to go down that path.
I was as nice as I could be in the banishing. I put food and water on the front porch. But M.R. goes next door where there is no food and water because there are no people there to provide it. The crazy cat stands next to the porch and stares at me as if there is an invisible fence she cannot cross to come back home. She goes under the porch and stays there. She goes in the open crawl space under the house. I entice her out and bring her back to our porch to show her the food and water. She dashes back next door. What is she eating? Where is she getting water to drink?
Is there a leaky faucet under the house? Are there (shudder here) mice or other varmints small enough for her to catch and eat? What is so attractive about the house next door? Or does she go over there to meet with her cat friends to plan her revenge on the horrible woman who kicked her out of her great big litter box?