COVID19: April 1 - Changing the Kitty Litter

Yesterday, it was time to change the kitty litter. I have a system for this. I dump it all in a trash bag and carry the bag through my kitchen, down the basement stairs and out to the trash can in my garage.

Because the litter I normally use was completely sold out at the grocery store (first time ever), I had to substitute another kind of litter. It’s finer, and a bit heavier. I was relieved when the cat didn’t seem to mind. No doubt, he was relieved, too. 

This was my first time to change this newfangled kitty litter. All went according to plan. I dumped it in a trash bag and headed through my kitchen toward the basement. It wasn’t until I got to the bottom of the basement stairs that I realized the bag had sprung a leak. A stream of litter and chunks of cat crap came gushing out. I did my best to pull up on the bag and get it to the trash. What a mess!

When I returned to scope out the damage done, I could see that the hole in the bag started sometime when I was in the kitchen, and it got larger as I walked. The stairs had a river of kitty litter and accompanying chunks, all the way down.

I proceeded to curse the kitty litter hoarders at the grocery store that made this happen. The damn coronavirus. And Trump.   

After I was done cussing and took a few deep breaths, I realized that it didn’t really matter who’s responsible for the mess on my stairs. Somebody would have to clean it up. And that somebody was me. Really, in the grand scheme of things, a lot of people were busy cleaning up much bigger messes than this. I could handle it. 

So, I spent considerable time doing something I hadn’t planned to do yesterday. I thoroughly swept my basement stairs in a way I had never swept them before. 

The lesson to this story: sometimes, despite our best efforts, shit happens. It’s how we clean it up afterwards that really matters.