It’s nobody’s business but the Turk’s

I ain’t opening that door. I’ve seen “Poltergeist.”

Miss Mia Sopaipilla was being a pill as I performed my coffee ritual this morning, so after a couple sips to get the motor running I figured I’d best tend to the litter boxes.

There’s one in the guest bathroom’s tub and another in the spare room where we contain Mia’s restless nature at night. This two-holer setup is a relic of the Before-Time, when we had two cats. Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment) insisted upon having his own personal latrine, and one feels obliged to give a 16-pound cat pretty much anything he deems mission-critical.

I dealt with the tub box first, and yep, it had seen action overnight. Then I headed for the spare room and noticed the door was closed.

Well, hell, I thought. No wonder Mia was pitching a bitch. She was locked out of her quarters. So I opened the door, gave that litter box a cursory inspection, and … it had been used too.

So I cleaned that one up, hauled what had become a sizable bag of feline exhaust outside to the trash, came back inside and asked Herself, “Why’d you close the door to Mia’s room?”

“I didn’t close the door,” she sez to me she sez.

“Well, I sure didn’t,” sez I.

A moment of silence.

“Mother?” she inquires, glancing around.

No reply.

I doubt it was Herself the Elder. She was never much of an eater, and while she had a great head of hair she wasn’t a furry, barring the occasional chin whisker. Plus, I don’t think her shade could squeeze into that litter box, which has a lid on it. It would have been undignified, even in extremis.

When Turks attack.

No, I’m inclined to suspect the Turk. My old comrade had an interesting sense of humor that encompassed leaping at you from hidey-holes, flashing the bathroom lights at us the night he died, and triggering a hallway smoke detector that requires a stepladder to reach as I was rehabbing a broken ankle.

Now there was a cat who found a loo with a lid to be an awful tight fit. He had to poke his blue-eyed brain-box out of the one we kept downstairs in Bibleburg. We called his bathroom breaks “driving the Turkentank.”

When you gotta go, you gotta go, they say. But if you’ve gone, do you gotta come back? If you do, leave the door open, or at least crack a window. Maybe light a match. I’m trying to enjoy my coffee here.

The Commander inspects his (purely defensive) chemical-weapons stockpile.

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8 Responses to “It’s nobody’s business but the Turk’s”

  1. Pat O’Brien Says:

    Perhaps a collaboration between the two? Come on, we haven’t messed with Patrick for a long time. Let’s go down and make him crazy. It’ll be fun!

    Either that, or Mia just having a giggle.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Could’ve been a tag-team thing, for sure. We’re talking about three powerful personalities here. I wouldn’t put it past ’em.

      Miss Mia was rocketing around the house last night like a kitten. Her routine has been upended for the past week and yesterday things returned more or less to what passes for normal around here. I think she was celebrating.

  2. JD Says:

    Only YOU, PO’G, could weave a mind-melding and laugh-inducing yarn encompassing cat poop, shades, mystic revelations, reverence for elders, and ….. dare I say ….. human foibles! Well done, senor! Many tips of the old chapeau, sombrero, cat litter box, and a rim-shot too! You brightened my day and, hopefully, yours too in the creation of it! Muy bueno, mi amigo y gracias!

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Thanks, JD. I was just thinking it reminded me of a bit Marc Maron did in one of his standup specials (can’t remember which one). A stray kitten turns up on his stoop and he starts wondering whether it might be the reincarnation of one of his dead friends who had unfinished business with him.

      “I’ll go mystical,” he says. Hey, so will I. See you there. …

  3. Opus the Poet Says:

    I’ve known a few felines I don’t doubt would haunt a litterbox, but none (so far) has left a deposit on their former pooping ground.

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