It took me a while, but I finally caught a photo of Spit in the sink.
You have NO idea, how badly I wanted to write that.
Let me explain….
My husband created a monster.
Ok, well, maybe I helped.
It all started when Spit (short of Spitfire) was little.
She REFUSED to drink from her bowl – she’dwash her paws in it, get the water dirty and not want to drink any.
One morning she sat on the counter staring at the the water running from the sink as he washed his hands. He filled the sink bowl.
From that point on, she would ONLY drink from the sink.
We thought when we moved we might be able to change it.
But no, she just sleeps or sits in the sink now – waiting for us…
And when we come she drinks straight from the tap.
Silly finicky cat.
It’s a BATTLE every time I’m in the bathroom.
I understand fighting for bathroom space with teenage daughters and such, but the CAT?
Forget locking the door to keep the kids out – I do it to keep the Cat out!
If I don’t, we’re fight to see who gets the water from the faucet when I go to wash my hands, or brush my teeth.
We’ve tried not encouraging her, but the kids take pity.
Or her meowing sounds pathetic.
And we’re quite convinced she’d rather die of thirst than drink out of a lowly bowl on the floor.
Maybe we should have named her
Sheba – as in Queen of.
*At least she hasn’t tried to drink from the toilet like our pet squirrel did, God rest his soul.