Yayy good for you Mosi!
We've got a slightly different issue here - all our cats (except Pursley) are rescues: waifs, strays, failed fosters or simply life's unwanted purry furry souls. They're all wannabe Top Cat aficionados and would live in dustbins, eating fish bones and stealing sausages for a living "providing it's with dig-ni-tee" as TC, ChoChoo, Fancy, Spook and Benny did with such aplomb
As ex-homeless purrsons, each and every one have an unhealthy attachment to their sleeping places.
This means we are never allowed to chuck out a cardboard box until it has been personally soiled
and since the demise of poor Beau the cat, our primary box soiler, no-one has messed a box since October.
The same goes for raggedy old cat trees, we have three - all of which have successors but none have yet managed to find their way to the tip.
Consequently we have four large cardboard boxes left over from the Orcshun and various Christmas related deliveries strewn around the house, all chewed, battered and torn but nevertheless loved to bits (literally) that we cannot dispose of.
The house is shrinking, shredded, tatty.
Theo has adopted one box and now spends most nights inside the house - a previously unknown phenomenon
Sly has bagged the one under the fridge in case Turkey mk IV sends him any spare
George has the one under the telly from where he watches the footie
and Sam has bagged the one that moves around the kitchen floor like Ouija.
Somebody helppp!
Tomorrow I'm all set for the Big Clean: the cardboard boxes will be recycled, old scratch posts destined for The Tip, spiders will be humanely displaced, dust and fur dislodged, caked bits of brown unidentified goo will be pried from the floors and skirting boards and the windows will be wiped clean of noseprints. Rugs will be washed and curtains vacummed
Tomorrow evening, my friends, there will be, erm, a house
