I've been living with the same four cats for eight years. I have to tell you, I am completely fed up with their refusal to speak English.
Authorities on the subject of cat psychology and whatnot say that when cats relieve themselves in places they aren't supposed to (meaning anywhere except the litter box or outside), they are trying to tell you something. Maybe they're sick. Or they have an infection. Or they don't like the brand of cat litter you bought. Or they want you to scoop said litter box more often. Or they're mad at you for something you did and perhaps don't even know you did. Or they're trying to be dominant over the other cats in the house and are using their pee to say, "Hey, other cats! You better stay the KOMO4 away from that microwave!"
(After hundreds and hundreds of dollars in vet bills, we've determined that one of our cats does have health issues that comes and goes. But these other cats? They just have behavior problems. A clean litter box does nothing to keep them in line, nor does Feliway.)
I, for one, am not a fan of urination as a means of communication. In fact, every time I find myself smelling it and cleaning it up, I fantasize about throwing the cats outside and never letting them back in. And even though I like having them around most of the time, I do try to estimate how long their lifespans might be so I can count down how many more years I'll have to put up with this.
All this resentment (and disgustingness) could end once and for all if the cats would stop being so stubborn and just start speaking English.
I know, I know. They've made the secret pact with the whole Animal World to pretend like they don't know how. But I know the truth! Several years ago, I startled Angelus and he slipped up by yelling, "Hey!" at me in his high-pitched kitty voice. The other cats were really mad because now I'm on to them.
Seriously, though. How much better would all our lives be if this picture of my gray baby represented reality?
Yes. A lot better.
Get on it, cats.