, , ,

Our Cat is now ten years old. Like me, and all our family pets previously, she was also rescued and adopted. There are only the two of us with fur and four paws left in this dysfunctional family, the rest having grown too old for this life and passing on to a better one. We have good parents, but they are a bit … strange. At least we have Sissy to hold the reins.

Where we previously lived, we had a big, enclosed garden with lots of trees, huge lawns and a vegetable patch. Ponsie stayed outside in the garden the whole day, hunting birds in the trees or sleeping in the sun.



Ponsie loved helping Dad with the digging in the veggie patch. Dad used to get most upset about this and always said the cat should have her own patch of sand to dig in. There’s gratitude for you.


Then we moved to Paradise, where we also have a very big garden, and lawns, and a beach with lots of sand, but Ponsie refuses to go outside for her hole digging excercise. So Dad got his wish: Ponsie now has her own sand patch and she loves digging holes there.


Mom used to buy special sand for the litter box, but this became a problem one day when Mom forgot to put it on the shopping list. Our nearest shop is in the next town, half an hour’s drive away. Sissy hit on the idea of using sand from the beach and dug up a fresh bucket of sand for Ponsie every morning. Problem solved.

Or maybe not.

Last week it rained for three days straight and Sissy couldn’t find dry sand anywhere. She left a bucket of sand out on the balcony to dry, but progress was slow, as we had no sun to speed up the drying process.

Ponsie got real impatient and started yelling at Mom. Mom got nervous and started yelling at Dad. Dad suggested that they could dry a batch of sand with the hair dryer. Mom jumped at this wonderful idea … and two minutes later we had fine beach sand everywhere on the tiles and surfaces.

Meanwhile, Ponsie was still yelling and trying to jump into the bucket with the wet sand, so Dad thought they could dry the sand in the oven, but Mom accidentally tipped the bowl over and all the sand ended up on the bottom grill and in the grooves where the oven door fits when closed. The door doesn’t close properly anymore. Mom says it doesn’t matter, we are getting a new one anyway.

By now, Ponsie was getting hysterical and Sissy tipped wet sand from the bucket into her litter box. Ponsie immediately started digging her holes. It turns out that she does not mind one bit that the sand is wet, as long as it is clean and fresh.

Next time, for goodness’ sakes, just listen to what the cat is telling you!