Today I had toast for breakfast. Sounds simple, right? Hardly. I put two slices of sourdough bread in the toaster and was peering through the fridge deciding what to put on the toast. I heard Gunnar pawing around in Katie's litterbox. This is bad because she hates him using her litterbox. And this will usually result in an accident for me to clean up. So I went to check on the cat. And....he had just peed all over the litter catcher that's outside her litterbox. Gross. So instead of waiting on my warm toast I had to clean up cat pee and litter. Ugh.
I cleaned the ramp off, washed my hands thoroughly and made my toast. I put the plate down on the table and I swear Gunnar tried to flop on it. I shooed him away since I didn't really want cat fur in my jam. But he kept persisting. I sat next to me and kept batting at my toast. He was relentless and wouldn't let me eat.
"No cat, you don't want to dip your paw in jam," I yelled exasperated at him. "You'd get sticky, have to clean yourself and would cry for at last 20 minutes."
Finally he flopped down on a few feet away and stopped trying.
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