It was even worse than I had suspected. Dorothy was in the bathroom munching on cat "fudge" she had taken from the litter box. Does it get worse than that? I don't think so. Yelling and scolding ensued, along with a few shrieks, most of which had the gist of "don't you dare lick me with that tongue!" Etc.
But I knew I had a problem on my hands. There was always going to be "fudge" in the litter box, and eventually I would like to be able to leave Dorothy without having to put her in her crate. One of the two litter boxes we have is shaped like an igloo, and Dorothy can't fit up its ramp so can't get to the innards. But that style litter box didn't fit into my bathroom space, so I did some sleuthing and decided to try a litter box with a top entry.
Of course, when it arrived, the most exciting thing about it was the box it came in. First Plum had to try it out:
And then Posy had her turn:
And then they both decided they would share the box. At least for a few minutes, until Plum got a little randy.
The problem was that while all this box fun was going on, the litterbox itself was going unused. I tried placing both of them in it separately, without the lid, but they did not take kindly to the suggestion. I let things be and Posy eventually figured it out a few hours later. Plum, however, was not too sure. When I tried to show him the entrance, you would have thought I was trying to shove him down into a latrine. He was having none of it.
The mostly unused box:
But I decided to be patient, and my patience paid off; when I got home from work today, it was quite clear that Plum had anointed the box and found it to his liking.
Now I no longer have to worry about Dorothy getting a sweet tooth and a belly-ache, not to mention hugely grossing me out.
Dorothy, thinking that fudge was probably not such a good idea.
And why was it kept in the bathroom, anyway?