old country house blog


Long ago and far away, I was a cat person. 
By necessity, yes, I lived in New York City, but also by choice.
I like cats. Not like I used to, like a child, but I do. 
NO I will never have an “I LOVE CATS” bumper sticker on my car…
…but then, when I remind myself that my car is a minivan
….I also remind myself to….
 “Never say Never.”
This is “Fluffy” and 6 year old Phoebe, .
She wanted a kitty for her 5th birthday so she made a
(OMG it was adorable)
And I put it up at the gym and lo and behold we got a kitten
“FLUFFY”, whoM she named before she even met him!
We did not know his
“real” birthday,

So Phoebe made it
Valentines day...This was his big FIRST BIRTH day.
WE got a dog, 6 months later and Fluffy began disappearing for weeks, then months at a time.
 Many LOST KITTY cat signs, and lots tears, we would find him.
Eventually he left for years. For good.
Until two years ago…we discovered him, lolling around in our across the street neighbors garage. Seems, Fluffy, all those times he had been gone, was actually RIGHT there…living under the name of
“Thomas”, the new name  they had given him. 

They offered to give him back, but only with their voices,
 ….while their eyes said …”He’s ALL we got in this world!!!!”
NO….he lives the life of Riley there, pampered by sweet dear two elderly
Country Folk .
 He had made his decision…That is what Cats do.

 We have 3 CATS.

Coopers kitty, story part I and II  here

Tate’s  kitty Stormy…story  here
Felix..given to us…by a neighbor…
no story, just the one
called “Learn to say NO”

Three cats, Three dogs and Three Kids.
Boy – Girl – Boy
Three sets of three.
 Probably some law as of probability working there, but I’ll never know.
You know why…?

….because I am too busy scooping kitty litter.
The fool I was to think that living out in the country with hundreds of trees to climb and a daily supply of rodents to kill would take them back to their roots…
…that of eating and pooping and peeing…out of doors…you know…in the wild…
But no, in fact the opposite has happened. 
They now, come to the front door after a long night of picking up ladies and 
killing innocent mice and I swear to God, 
they ask
in their “meow meow” language…
“May I please come in to use the restroom?”
and THAT they do.
How is it, that I could live in a 400 sq foot apartment in New York City for 8 years
with two cats and NEVER…
not ONE TIME did my house reek of cat poo.
and now, in my big old 3600 and some odd change square foot house…
It always smells like a big frat boy just took a dump.

And with the exception of the three times I was pregnant..
so Three times Nine months equals Twenty seven
so with the exception of 27 months of my almost 18 year marriage…
It is I who have had to scoop the poop.
My husband is a great guy, he has
 done the grocery shopping since Tate was a baby…
…takes a carload of recycling twice a week to the…recycling place
got right in there, changed diapers, does laundry, makes an occasional bed…
but made it VERY clear, way back when we were just friends, even before our first kiss
That he would never scoop poop.
Baby Charlie and his BFF Tiger

I guess, I should be glad, he is a Man of his word.
But when I think about all the things I said, way back when
that I would never do…
like have a mini van, or live in the Country, wear work out clothes for…clothes,
or yell at a child….
well, I am just wondering if perhaps, 
for my upcoming Birthday that he might consider…
in addition to some really Nice Jonathan Adler treats or some sparkly diamond earrings…
or a chai latte…
Maybe he could give me a gift of scooping.
It would mean the world to me.

I’m just sayin.

2 thoughts on “SCOOPING KITTY LITTER and the Cats of MOCH

  1. Beautiful post, Lesli. I think you deserve a gift of scoopitude. We are (sort of) settled in in Philly, so ready for the DeVito gang if ever you’re up this way… Your site looks great, btw! Tracy

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