The Eternal Optimist

I’ve somehow started collecting photos of the cats with newspapers lately. Now that I’m getting the Washington Post seven days a week, it’s a daily struggle to try to read it in the morning before Griffin or Loki decides to lie down on the story I’m reading and not move.

This was taken while he was in the middle of eating my newspaper.

Not a newspaper, but this is one of Griffin’s new favorite places to sleep while I’m on my computer. I’m still trying to figure out how this is comfortable.

As yesterday’s post mentioned, I ordered a new water fountain when I thought the old one was broken (not just sabotaged). It arrived today — in the world’s biggest box. Well, not the biggest. But one that was clearly more than four times the size of the fountain. Lucky for me, the fountain was actually small and light so the box was easy to carry upstairs.

Griffin quickly claimed the box. Then Loki tried to jump on top, too. However, the combined weight (especially Loki’s excessive weight) caused the top to begin to cave in so I had to remove him. Then we opened it. The cats get very excited when I open a box because it means they have a new toy. In this case, not only did they end up with a large box, they got yards and yards of packing paper. It doesn’t get better than this. My neighbors, however, might not be pleased by the ruckus caused when two cats bound in and out of a box and through loads of paper.

So, in return for them sabotaging the fountain, they got what appears to be the world’s best cat toys. This doesn’t seem right.

About two years ago, I became a crazy cat lady. Why? Because I bought one of those ridiculous and unnecessary cat water fountains.

At the time, it seemed the obvious move. One, my cats love water. Two, they used to spend all their time drinking out of my bathroom faucet — and I was getting a little annoyed that I couldn’t brush my teeth without knocking them away five times. Three, Loki started this horrible habit of tipping his water bowl — just enough so that the water splashed out.

The water fountain was one of my best purchases. It solved all those problems. It’s excellent!

Until recently.

First, Loki decided he didn’t like the lid on it. He would nudge the lid up with his nose or paw until it fell off. Half the time it landed in the water stream and proceeded to direct water into a big puddle on the living room carpet. So I took off the lid and kept the top open.

Then, Loki discovered that with the top off, he could more easily tip over the back water tank. But when the water tank gets tipped, it messes with the valve that controls the water flow (keeping the water in the tank). The result: I wake up to a water fountain with water pouring over the sides because all the water flowed in at once. So I started only filling up the base of the fountain. (Unfortunately, this means I have to add water every day or two instead of once a week, but I was willing to live with it.)

Lately, I’ve noticed puddles of water again. But no discernible evidence for how it got there. I tried changing the mat the fountain sat on. I sat it on a towel. Then I thought there must be a leak in the fountain because I haven’t seen the cats do anything to cause that much water to magically jump from the fountain to the carpet. So I bought a new fountain (set to arrive tomorrow). In the meantime, though, I noticed some oddities: an entire day in which no water seemed to leak out, plus other times when the area seemed dry. Hmm, if it were a leak, that didn’t add up.

So, I blamed Loki. He’s the one who sits by the fountain, staring at the water droplets. He’s the one who knocked everything else off the fountain. He’s the one who paws at the base all the time, causing it to move ever so slightly. I figured he must have some stronger pawing when I’m gone that causes tsunamis.

Then, tonight. Griffin walks over, dips his paw in (as he often does) and licks it off. Nothing abnormal. Then, he puts both paws in and goes to town. Tsunami waves. Imagine dirt flying as a dog digs in a garden, trying to uncover a bone. Except this is water flying. All over my carpet. We’re talking a half cup to a full cup of water straight onto the floor in less than five seconds. And then? Griffin lies down in the water-soaked carpet and starts licking water off his paws.

So, I felt immediate shame. (I’m a horrible cat mother, blaming the wrong “kid.”) I apologized to Loki (in whichever way you apologize to a cat), and I had some words with Griffin (or general angry yelling at the walls).

And now I have no clue how to get this water-loving cat to stop flooding my carpet.

Note the paper covering the food bowls. Loki will dig and dig until the bowls are covered up by something, or until they completely tip over. So now we keep paper or newspaper next to the food bowls so he can cover them up.