Cat litter: Risky business

Yesterday was a learning experience. I admit that scrounging in the litter box is not ideal, but, hey, I am a dog, remember!

I did learn a valuable lesson or two or three or...

1. Dogs that play in the litter box do not get treats. 
2. Playing in the litter box will get you in deep trouble.
3. Running from your human mom only increases the level of trouble you are in.
4. Dogs that eat certain types of litter will become horribly sick.

Personally, I've been caught in the "box" many times over the past few months, but yesterday was different. How am I supposed to know when the litter brand is changed?

Obviously the traditional FreshStep brand is not compatible with a dog's digestive system. By mid afternoon I thought I was going to die. The harking was horrible. My human mom was frantic over my harking and frothing. I heard her verbally analyzing the situation. She said, "When he went out, he was on the leash with me...so I know he didn't get into anything that could hurt him." Hmmm....if she only knew.

But, she did figure it out.

Apparantly, all the hacking was my body's way of expeling the litter. In one of the dozens of cleanups, my mom saw the bits of litter.

We had the meeting by the "box" and she proceeded to explain the "no"..."ahck" and other sounds that mean I am not to touch something. Okay already, I get it! I am dying over here. Do you think I don't realize what the connection is?

Anyway...
My mom fixed me a place to sleep in the laundry room. She provided a bowl of fresh water and set up the child safety gate. She gave me a loving pat on the head, a scratch behind the ears, said "I love you, Doggebone" and diappeared around the corner.

The night was long. Harking took the place of my regular sleep. Shortly after 2am I found relief. I slept straight through the alarm, my human siblings rumbling around as they readied for school, and the sounds of my mom and her coffee pot. The harking was gone.

Whew! Lesson learned!

But my stomach didn't feel so great. I jumped to my feet and did the dancing thing my mom likes me to do. She knows that means I have to "go." Apparantly, there is more to taking care of a bad litter ingestion than harking. But I feel much better now.

I played with my feline siblings for a bit, passing the "box" every now and then. I am fighting the temptation. It is an ongoing battle. I think I might have to start a therapy group. Let me know if you want to enlist.