mr. prissy pants

So most of you know, we have a fancy cat. Let me rephrase. We have, the most fluffy, fancy pants wuss of a cat there is. Seriously, he's a wimp. And lately, he's decided that getting up and into the litter box is just beneath him. I mean, really, who wants to jump when you've gotta go. And so he's chosen to express his displeasure with his commode in one of the few ways he has to express himself. Mostly by pooping on the floor. Right next to the litter. I've spared you the picture.

But we love the little fluffer-nutter, so, like all good suckers, we improvised!

Now, there's a door so fluffy britches can waltz his way in, like the royal prince he is. (though you'll notice he has no problem jumping up on the shelf)