Goodbye Buster.
I’m not sure if I mentioned before I abandoned this blog that last December we adopted a cat from the local shelter. Buster is feisty and full of personality and - mostly - he is a sweet cat and a great addition to the household.
Unfortunately.
The time has come for the cat to part ways from our family. He has a very unfortunate habit of not using his litter box at times. It’s one thing if it is the floor, or the carpet, which is not ideal but mostly you can clean it up and move on. The first time happened while I was away on a business trip for two weeks. My brother and Kiddo were home, doing their daily routine, so essentially the only thing different was that I was not there. The day before I flew home from that trip, I received the dreadful news that the cat had used *my bed* as his choice spot to urinate.
PISSED. That word not only describes what he did, but it also scratches the surface of how I felt about it. I was furious, but even then, through the murderous rage I was feeling, I attributed it to the fact that I was gone, and I’ve heard that sometimes cats do that kind of thing.
Until yesterday.
Last night I went to climb in bed for the night and found that he DID IT AGAIN. On my bed. Again.
I don’t know where exactly he will be going, but that is only a small detail at this point. The cat must go.
The heartbreaking point of this is that Kiddo and the cat are very fond of each other. It is going to be very hard on him to see the cat go. Unfortunately this is just not something I can or will tolerate. I don’t even want to know *why* the cat is doing it, because I will never trust that he won’t do it again. Some may consider me a horrible person for giving away what they consider a family member.
To those I say, “I have a cat available for you to adopt.”
