Don’t Toilet Train Your Cats – A Cautionary Tale

When we were living in our first apartment, we tried to toilet train our cats. I know what you’re thinking. Trust me, I know. NOW it seems crazy to me, but it didn’t in 2012 for some reason. It’ll make it easier to live in a tiny city apartment with cats, they said! No more box to clean up after they learn, they said!

Photo of our mistake.

After a few weeks of training, one cat seemed to catch on while the other one said a firm no thank you go fuck yourselves mom and dad. We held out hope a little longer, until one fateful night when they decided they’d had enough.

W and I woke up in the middle of the night to a banging sound on our bedroom door. We opened it to discover that two events had occurred. First, the cats had apparently decided the ground was the new bathroom to spite their cruel overlords. The second and much more dire piece of news was that our Roomba must have turned itself on in the main area of our apartment. The sound we awoke to was shit being bumped on our door, and we watched in horror as the Roomba Shitmobile continued to faithfully bump more shit on more things just in case it missed anything the first few go-rounds. Our lives were suddenly an apocalyptic wasteland (literally). Welcome to Fury Road. Chaos reigns! You can’t say Roombas aren’t thorough.

We didn’t ask for this world but we got it anyway.

We were speechless. We didn’t even say one word while we hurried to stop the revenge on wheels and salvage our home. Don’t ask me questions about the cleanup process. Or the smell. I’m desperately trying to forget. Please let me forget. The only thing we couldn’t bleach was our memories.

The cats taught us that karma is real, and we no longer have a Roomba. I’m not saying we know for sure the cats planned it, but I’m not NOT saying it either. The morale of the story was clear: don’t try to toilet train your cats.

The enemy.

My favorite part of this experience was when we got back into bed. After we had solemnly regained control of our home and cleaned ourselves off, we were wide awake. W said the first words either of us said that night, “Well. The shit sure hit the fan.” Then we couldn’t stop laughing.

Note: To the guy whose similar Roomba+shit story went viral a couple years ago, I hear you, my brother. We have both passed through the valley of the shadow of death. We must all tell our stories!

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