So my roommate got the job, I got my job, and we celebrated by putting a down payment on a very nice refrigerator. My birthday came and went with some very nice presents. I found a nail polish that hides the fact that I can't paint a straight line. My aunt sent me a sweater that my roommate said fits me on many levels (score!!). I accidentally bought Archer Farms Tuscan sourdough bread instead of the artisan bread, but have discovered it's actually not bad. The cream in the dorm fridge is a full day past its expiration date but is still good. What on earth could I possibly have to complain about?
Besides having damn little to write about tonight, I mean?
Well, my dear diabetic cat Spicer continues to pee near the litterbox instead of in it. At least part of the time. He did use the box this morning, but the carpet this afternoon. He didn't do this before he was diabetic, AFAIK. And he pees oceans. The pissing contest you don't want to start with a diabetic cat is literal, not figurative. They have gallons more where that came from.
We clean the boxes (three of them, one per cat and one extra) daily at seven pm. My roommate takes care of the boxes and vacuums while I check for wet spots, blot, spray with Resolve, scrub, wash out the cleaning rags in the sink, and hang them up in the hopes that they'll dry before I have to use them the next day. The house smells of Resolve and unResolved urine. Tiny gnats find the sugar in the wet spots irresistible and swarm there to breed and feed. The house is buzzing with them. The spot under the dining room table that never dries completely sometimes has the odd maggot in it. There's a funnel trap of flat beer and soap in the kitchen and I broke one of our flyswatters. I'm seriously considering sleeping with the window open tonight to see how many of them die of cold. We won't; it isn't quite freezing yet. I don't want to even think about what's happening to the lovely wood floor under the carpet. If the sugar wouldn't attract more gnats, I'd mine the carpet with Pop Rocks to see if I could scare Spicer out of wetting it. ("The rug hissed and spat at me!")
The vet has readjusted Spicer's insulin up to three units. Am I being naive to hope that if Spicer pees less, he'll use the litter more? Can I retrain him without locking him in the bathroom for several days? Do I park our newest box on the never-dry-anyway spot under the table? Should I give up and just toilet train him now? Opinions? Any advice?
And what's your FP tonight?