This came up last night while randomly chatting to a couple of folk about kittens (which are the cutest thing in the world - trufax) and I was encouraged to post here. For I have now had cats in some form for most of my life, with my current precious precious goblin cats having been with me for (I think) twelve years.
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And no amount of disgust or yelling will solve that next time they are sick; it will be in a similar place and no they aren't toddlers who will eventually learn to dash to the toilet.
I remember when we had a ginger cat called Orlando and we asked our next door neighbour to feed him for a week she complained bitterly that he'd slept on her bed (no I have no idea why she was letting him in her house) and left ginger hairs on her nice clean sheets. My mum's reply was "we don't let him sleep on the bed" and the way she prevented him from doing so was keeping the bedroom door shut. We were highly amused when said neighbour got a white cat and managed to lock said cat in the bedroom one day - she wasn't complaining about hairs then.
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