Cat poop: It’s what’s for dinner

For a while, I tried the Shamu thing when Gracie expressed her dissatisfaction with something or other (my absence, her getting insufficient attention despite my presence, the switching of cat litter, etc.) by pooping outside the litter box. The Shamu thing meant ignoring her; I shrugged, cleaned up the poop, moved on with my life. This took no more effort than attempting negative reinforcement. so even when the placement and circumstances of the rogue poop were particularly audacious, obnoxious, and ballsy, I shrugged and let it go.

Until Sunday, when I nearly rolled my bike over it on the way in. I’d just cleaned the doormat from the last time she pooped all over it. I’d had it. So I reverted to my old recourse: I gathered the poop in a plastic bag and placed it on Gracie’s food dish. And imagined the following conversation (because that's what I do):

Gracie: Hmmm, where did that come from?
A.: What do you think?
Gracie: I must have created that.
A.: Right.
Gracie: But I don't like it on my food dish.
A.: Then don’t leave it outside the box.

In her non-defense, she's been contending with a new, smaller litter box (the other one had become to gross to be cleaned). But this is where the ‘parent’ in me comes out:

A.: Oh, you don’t like your new litter box? Did you know that there are cats out there who don’t even have a litter box?
Gracie: Meow?
A.: If you don't like it, drive your fat, furry ass to PetSmart and pick out the one you like, that also fits in the utility room.
Gracie: But mommy, I can't drive.,
A.: Then shut the f*up.

 In all seriousness (or, at least, in more seriousness), I just have a low tolerance for whiny bi&ching, and I have a hard time squelching the ‘parental’ approach for trying to train Gracie out of her personality. As I watch friends with small children encourage their kids to use their words—there’s no excuse for whining or crying once you can actually verbally articulate the issue—I yearn to use the same methods on my cat. I just don’t understand why she has to cry about everything. I don’t respect that kind of thing and I won’t abide it.
 
And I can't take her seriously, because she cries wolf on a daily basis. As I got dressed this morning, I heard bloody-murder crying from downstairs. I thought, “good lord, what is it now?” And then I thought, “no, really, is someone slitting Gracie’s throat?” When she cries that desperately is when she tends to poop outside the box (in the "I'm hope but not paying her sufficient attention" category), so I thought, ‘great, all I need this morning is to clean up cat poop before I leave for work.’ But I came downstairs, and there was none. Rather, there was, but it was inside the box. She was just whining bloody murder because she wanted to go outside. Well, tough $hit (no pun intended), I want to play outside, too, but one of us has to make a living.

Anyway, I wonder if she’d also thought about pooping outside the box but decided against it because she didn’t want the output to end up on next to her dinner again. I’d like to think that deterrence worked.