Tonglen Healing Arts for Animals

Articles

Bathtub Tails

June 2003

There is a funny thing that comes along with working as an animal communicator. No, I don’t mean having to look my husband’s co-workers in the eye at the company Christmas party and tell them that I talk to animals for a living. What I mean is people have this idea that all the animals who live with me are perfectly well behaved all the time, or at least are willing to listen to me when I tell them to stop doing something. Oh how I wish this were true! But alas, my animals are, well, animals. Just like us human animals, they all have their wonderful and not so wonderful habits.

In my animal healing practice when a human tells me that their cat is doing something “outside of the box,” we usually aren’t talking about innovation. I regularly consult with cats who are urinating or defecating outside of their litter box. I have worked successfully with many cats to overcome this problem. I talk with the cats, understand how they feel emotionally and physically, learn about their living environment and whatever else I can think of that would shed light on why they aren’t using their litter box. Then we formulate a plan to help them with whatever is causing them difficulty, and generally the issue gets resolved. So, last week when we brought home two Maine Coon kittens, you would think I would have been prepared for dealing with litter box issues.

Rocky and Bodhi had been living in a veterinary office for several months before they came to live with my husband and me. They had definitely learned to use a litter box before they came home with us. The night we brought the kittens home, we decided to put them in the bathroom for safe keeping until they learned who our three dogs were. The plan was to slowly introduce them to the pack, and then they would have free run of the house. We set up the bathroom with water and food bowls, made a cubby out of a box that had towels lining it, set out the litter box, turned off the light and called it a night. Things did not go as smoothly as I planned from here on out.

The First Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. I hear a vaguely irritated tone as my husband says that Bodhi used the litter box, but Rocky pooped in the bathtub. He made some comment about hoping Rocky didn’t think the bathtub was THE place to poop. So I checked in with Rocky and sure enough he thought that the tub was the world’s largest litter box. I explained to Rocky about where the real litter box was. Then it occurred to me that we were using a different type of litter than he was accustomed too. So I put out a second litter box with the type of litter he had been using at the vet’s office. I assured my husband that things would be different from now on. We just needed to give Rocky another day to figure it out.

The Second Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. I hear a string of curse words, followed by the announcement that Rocky had pooped in the tub again. OK, so talking with Rocky didn’t do any good. After all, why should he use a tiny little box when this giant one was right there and seemed to be cleaned immediately upon a human discovering it was dirty?

My husband decided he would get a wooden board and place it vertically against the tub, making it too tall for Rocky to hop into. So up went the board.

The Third Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. I hear more profanity followed by the announcement that Rocky pooped in the tub. At this point I start keeping score. I said, “I think that makes it Rocky three - you zero.”

The bathroom gets cleaned up, my husband goes out to the shed and soon appears with a larger plastic board, which he wedges next to the existing board leaning up against the tub. My husband now figures that the spot where Rocky had cleared the first board was now higher with the addition of the plastic sheet. Surely this would be enough.

The Fourth Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. More cursing. Score Rocky! Now my husband places a third board along the tub and secures it with some wood blocks on the floor so there is no way for Rocky to push it aside. Picture, if you will, the boards are now reaching nearly 4 feet high and are quite cumbersome to move. This wouldn’t be a problem, but the kittens were residing in our only bathroom. Still, we figured we had the issue solved and now that Rocky couldn’t get into his beloved throne, he would certainly start using the litter box. If I was careful, I could still move the boards around without injuring myself too much and get into the shower. This seemed like a small inconvenience given the circumstances.

The Fifth Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. Rocky, 5 -my husband, zip. While my husband is cleaning up the tub, he notices Rocky climbing in to do his business. My husband turns on the shower, startling Rocky. Rocky jumps out of the tub and goes to the litter box to pee. Later that morning Rocky jumps into the tub just as I am getting into the shower. I also turn the water on and Rocky leaps out and goes to his box and poops. A brilliant idea occurs to me. Let’s leave the shower on, and Rocky won’t want to get in the tub. It’s hard to believe I followed this thought to fruition, but I left the shower running for half the day.

Yes, it’s true Rocky did not use the tub that day as his personal toilet, but the thought of wasted water and electricity was weighing on me. That night my husband and I brainstormed about what to do next. I said, “We need to make a lid for the tub so he can’t jump in it.” Out to the shed my husband went and came back with a board to lay across the top of the tub. However, my husband decided there was a flaw in my reasoning. He thought if it were a flat surface, Rocky would simply poop on top of the lid. So he rigged an angled surface, which teetered back and forth a bit. There was just enough room to slide a hand between the rear tub wall and the tub itself, so he could lift the lid when we needed to use the shower. This would have to be something Rocky would not want to go near.

The Sixth Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. Rocky is still pitching a shutout. Later that day, we went out to a party at the barn where I board my horse. On the way, we agree that on the way home from the party we will stop at the hardware store to get a better fitting piece of wood to make a lid for the tub. While at the party, I recount the tale of Rocky and the tub. I explain currently we have a board across the tub that is far too heavy for me to lift off, making it impossible for me to access the shower. As I finish telling the saga, a friend of mine at the barn says, “Why don’t you just put a little water in the bottom of the tub?” My husband and I look at each other dumbfounded.

We left the party, went home and put an inch of water in the tub.

The Seventh Morning Home

My husband gets up to go to the bathroom to check on the kittens. Rocky had used the litter box. Score!