You know when "they say" try this - it works? And it totally does not?

Over the past 4 or 5 weeks, my life has become a quiet war—a battle of wills between myself and Sheldon, my dearest cat.

Sheldon, you see, has developed an insatiable craving for clawing, ripping, and mauling any kind of toilet paper. Whether it’s still in the store package or freely hanging, it’s fair game.

So, like any desperate pet owner, I turned to the internet for advice. The unanimous verdict? Mount the toilet paper rolls backward.

I followed the advice.

 

And it was a colossal failure.






In the photo above, you can still see the leading edge of the roll hanging forlornly against the wall. Proof that I hung the roll backward, defying conventional wisdom.

 

But this roll wasn’t the only victim. On the shelf, another casualty lay—a second roll I found on the floor in the parlour. I tried to salvage it, but alas, it suffered severe damage. Now it’s relegated to facial cleaning duty, unable to fulfill its intended purpose. A real bummer, you know what I mean.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ve implemented a strict “no cats in the washroom without my supervision” rule.
Easier said than done, though. The only person who can enforce this rule is me, and I’ve clearly fallen short.

Why, you ask?

Because every morning, when I step into the washroom, Sheldon and Leo turn into little hooligans. They take turns “batting” the wooden balls hanging from my washroom door. Yes, there’s a macramé thingie adorned with balls hanging on my bathroom door. Not my idea, mind you, but the cats adore pummeling those balls when they can’t get inside.

Standing (or sitting) in there feels like residing in a metal can next to a pile-driver operation. And yes, I’ve occasionally forgotten to close the door after my dramatic exits—complete with death and ration threats—if they don’t cease their antics and just Cut. It. Out.

It was a massacre!

So then there is the third victim— one that was thrashed and discombobulated into hundreds of tiny, medium and large pieces all around the parlour table’s round rug. Guess who was busy working on the second victim? 

You guessed — Sheldon.

Victim #2 and #3 were brand new, still in their packages, perched on the 7-foot-high shelf this morning. I also store some of my medications up there, so now I need to find a more secure location. For the time being, I’ve zipped up my medication bag (a rather nice generic shaving kit with plenty of pockets).

Clearly, one of them managed to reach that shelf. I take pride in mounting that sucker nice and strong, but it also infuriates me that these little rascals are testing my skills!

 

 

 

As for the macramé hanging on my bathroom door,
you’d think I’d attach the bottom to the door. But I’m
mindful of resale value—I don’t want to deface the
house. After all, I’m too old (and so is the missus)
to Spackle every wall.

Stay tuned for my next post about the Cat Run and Catio we’re building. I’ll share our plans and progress. And maybe I’ll throw in some “yard” photos, showcasing Tine’s hard work replacing the plants that suffered during our brutal deep freeze. Those electric heaters in the she-shed? Well, one of them may have mysteriously disconnected. But we soldier on.

So, we've had to expend a bit of extra $$ from our savings to not only replace, but keep safe from the elements all the plants we have purchased until they have rooted in properly. Read more next time.

Peace all,
.- .-.

Cheers from Fort Saskatchewan,

Edwin.