Polly Plops, as we affectionately call her, waits until I've cleared out the clumpy pee when I come through the door, I get it all nice and fluffy for her then she drops a slug over the edge of the box. Occasionally she hits the litter, then enthusiastically tries to cover it up by patting the wall or the edge of the tray for a few minutes, by which time the slug has crawled over the edge of the box is is hiding down the side on the floortiles, sending it's deadly signals silently through the house.
MD you missed the perfect opportunity to use this one
Jo, that's just wrong, plain wrong!
Ah, the glamour, the romance