Squeaky crapped my pants! Really! Just in case you didn’t read my earlier post. I bought “Smarty Kitty” off an infomercial when I was seduced by the idea of a cat using toilet, instead of the cat box. Never mind that Squeaky had been happily using his cat box without fail for the entire five years since we adopted him. Now, he won’t go near it, leaving surprises in the bathtub, on towels, on rugs, in my sewing basket……..I am frustrated by the mess and feel guilty for confusing him. I’ve considered euthanasia, for me, not him, but that seems unethical since I took him out of a shelter and promised him a good home. I tried priming his cat box with the “surprises” he left around me around the house, but he’s not convinced. He knows they go in the toilet. Getting them in there is my issue, now, not his. This morning I had the worst experience of all, after my latest attempts at redirecting him. Last night, I put Squeaky’s cat box on some boards supported very sturdily over the bathtub ledge. It made a fine, steady shelf with plenty of room to walk around. I ran an inch of water in bathtub and sink, just to be sure and shut all the doors where he had only access to the bathroom and hall, thinking he would surely resort to the cat box. He responded with a vengeance. I’d hung my pants and shirt on the back of the bathroom door, thinking I’d wear them again this morning. He’d managed to pull them down and….well, you know the rest!