Toity Kitty
by Tina Blue
March 23, 2001
In my recent article "Hey, Cat! I'm Not Your MTV!" I mentioned that my cat Lila loves to watch me, but she prefers to watch water swirling down a freshly flushed toilet. I wasn't joking.
She really loves to watch a toilet being flushed.
My friend Michael, the man whose computer I use to post my articles, moved in upstairs from me just last August. As it happens, the apartment he now occupies is the same one that used to be occupied by the family that originally owned both of my female cats, Gabby (the star of the article "Gabfest") and Lila.
Lila is something of a--an--um, a (sshh!)--a "slut." If you ever saw the way she acts around men, you'd understand what I mean. She is shameless about coming on with men.
Shameless!
She has attached herself to my friend Michael, and several weeks ago she began following him upstairs whenever he came home. Now she stands outside his door at all hours of the day or night and meows to be let in. He's a sap. He lets her in.
So whenever I go upstairs to use Michael's computer, I am greeted at the door by my cat.
I think the fact that she lived in that apartment for an entire year before I adopted her six years ago makes her feel doubly comfortable there.
Last week, when I mentioned Lila's fondness for flushing toilets, Michael wanted to see what I meant. We went into his bathroom, with Lila close behind, because she doesn't like to let him out of her sight. As soon as we got in there, I opened the toilet lid and flushed.
Suddenly Michael ceased to exist. All that mattered was that a toilet had been flushed in her vicinity.
WHOOSH! She was on her hind legs, forepaws on the toilet seat, neck arched, staring into the toilet bowl as the water swirled down. She continued to watch until the bowl refilled and the water no longer moved, and then, just as suddenly as she had flown to the toilet, she dropped her front paws to the floor and returned to her courtship of Michael.
I waited a moment, so she could really get back into flirting with Michael, and then I flushed again.
WHOOSH! She was poised over the toilet bowl again, totally engrossed in her favorite show. Until that water stopped moving, nothing else in the world mattered to her.
So there, Michael. I am not the only one that plays second fiddle to a toilet where Lila's affections are concerned.
