That being said, could someone, anyone please come to the house and tell Goten something for me? I have a letter written, all you have to do is read it to him:
Mommy and Daddy love you very very much. We took you in off the streets when you were cold and alone. We have fed you and cared for you. We delt with your period of insanity when you were hellbent on destroying yourself. We have pulled you off the ceiling, we have rescued you from sticking your head down the shower drain.
We have tried to keep you from torturing Chrissy, not just for Chrissy's benifit, but because we know how much you hate having her claws sunk into your forehead for several minutes when she finally has enough of you.
We have tolerated your whirling in the shower, almost causing both of us to be killed, me by choking on an electric toothbrush, Daddy by almost having his throat slashed to bits. We have tollerated your kitten fits, your lovely habbit of racing across the room to leap upon our legs, sinking your claws into our flesh, then even felt guilty about the hurt look you give us, for having the balls to scream with pain and startle you.
We have allowed you to decide that the mini blinds are evil and to think it's your job to tear them down, or to break them into bits. And we live on the first floor.
We have given you plenty of little plastic balls with bells in them, and even tollerate with fairly good humor, your habbit of wanting to play with them when someone is asleep. And I have personally not even tried to kill you for thinking that next to those little balls with the bells in them, my long hair makes the second bestest toy... especially when I'm asleep on the couch. We understand that these are the pitfalls of owning such a "special" cat as you.
When you were insane, we almost went broke trying to find out what was wrong. I spent hours holding you, wrapped in a blanket, so you wouldn't hurt yourself or another cat, or us. I made you a hallway, where you could play safely.
We love you dearly, and we always will.
That being said, could you please learn to keep some freaking cat litter in the damned box? Daddy and I are getting darned tired of walking across sand every time we go into the kitchen. Not to mention, having to pour in half a box of scoopable litter into the box, every single day. Now, we understand that this might be difficult for you, so we're not expecting you to leave 90% of the litter in the box, or even 50%. We'd be perfectly happy to see you start with 10%.
Now, before you start thinking we're only trying to ruin your fun, there is an advantage. If you leave some litter in the box, then you won't need to spend 17 hours kicking litter out of the box. You can cut that down to maybe 10 hours or so, leaving you more time to pursue other activities of pleasure, like leaping on our heads, or bitting our ankles.
I think, if you just try, leaving that 10% in the box, you'll find it's not so bad.
And maybe, someday, you'll learn that you can put some of that 10% on your poop and actually reduce the smell. So that Mommy and Daddy don't walk into the house, after being out for awhile, and kneel over from the smell.
Please give this some thought. We could be onto something big here. If you can just do this, we'll move onto bigger things, like teaching you not to bite Mommy's elbow when she's got it resting on the armrest of the couch.
Mommy and Daddy.So, if someone could just come over... and read this letter to Goten, they'd have my grattitude forever.
Cause I'll be dipped if that stupid cat hasn't been scratching away for the last Fourty five minutes!