Earlier this evening, I gave in to a biological calling and headed to the bathroom.

With each step towards my relief station, a stench began to waft into my nostrils.  A stench that increased in power.  And familiarity.  Milo's shit?  Hm.  Maybe he'd just "gone" in his litterbox. 

But, ew, why was his shit stench potent around the bathroom doorway?

Curiosity was killing me.  So I quickly fumbled for, and flipped, the lightswitch.  Then I tiptoed into the bathroom, stretching my neck out and around as I looked for the source of the stench.  And, eureka, I found the culprit-- er, culprits!


                                    Healthy Cat Turds



There they were, three medium-sized cat turds and two cat nuggets nestled upon our bathroom-reading material.  Bathroom-reading material that was soon picked-up by its edges and gently swung over the toilet so that five turds slipped down into dramatic plops. 

I flushed the toilet.
 
Milo strutted into the bathroom to join me.  Amid my utter disbelief, he calmly took a seat beside my foot as though he were interested in discussing the weather.  

I looked down at him.

"What-?  What the hell was that?" I asked him, pointing to the toilet. 

He didn't have an answer.

"That... was not o.k.," I said, attempting at a lecture.  "NOT o.k...."

But I couldn't get mad at him.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't muster the amount of anger necessary to show Milo who was boss.  My attempt at lecturing became a pointless endeavor.

"Oh, nevermind," I told the purring cutie as he a lay on the rug, belly-up.

I folded up the magazine that Milo so liberally took a shit on, cringing at the thought of two pages naturally becoming glued together.   
Yet, giving the magazine cover a once-over, I began to snicker.  



                                         Recyclable


The magazine Milo so liberally took a shit on was "Living Healthy", a wellness periodical sent to us by the Blue Cross and Blue Shield association!