Paula mentioned that her friend works at the company that produces Cat’s Pride litter, and they’ve recently come out with a version called Fresh & Light and that I might want to give it a try. Since I am ALWAYS ready to try another litter in hopes of finding the perfect one (I’m a litter hissy, I’ll go where the wind blows, I KNOW the perfect litter that isn’t dusty, clumps well, and holds down the stank is OUT THERE, I just need to find it!), I asked Fred to pick up a box of it when he went to Walmart Saturday morning. He did, and Saturday evening when we emptied, scrubbed out, and refilled the litter boxes in the upstairs bathroom and in the foster room, I filled one of them with the Cat’s Pride Fresh & Light.
I can tell you that it is possibly the least dusty litter I’ve used yet – Fred said that he thinks it’s even less dusty than the Cat Attract. It clumps well, but it just so happens that that litter box is one of the lesser-used ones, so I’m thinking of moving it either into the bathroom or switching it with one of the ones in the guest bedroom. I can’t speak to how it is with holding down the litter box stank, at least not yet, but probably by mid-week next week I’ll know whether it’s a litter worth sticking with or not. If I decide it’s worth switching over to, I’ll do it ever so slowly, so as not to set off the spraying bandits in the house.
I’ll try to remember to let y’all know how it holds up – if I forget to and you’re wondering, feel free to remind me. I tend to forget to follow up. Y’all know how I am.
Tiptoe through the tulips. Er, the foster room.
“Dude. Your toenails are UP MY NOSE!”
Would you look at the monster paw on that guy?
Harlan keeps an eye on Everett.
If you’re Facebook friends with Love & Hisses, you’ve already seen this picture. Corbie was in the big bed on the table, snoozing, when that little hussy Molly climbed right in with him.
He was like “Dude. You see what I have to put up with, here?”
Newt just kept sleeping.
That much beautiful stripey goodness in one cat bed? It’s unheard of. I’m surprised the bed didn’t have some sort of nuclear reaction and blow to bits.
Tom Cullen is a fine figure of a mancat.
But he’s not such a manly mancat that he isn’t willing to help with the groceries!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Previously
2010: Then one evening, the cats got together and had a newspaper-shredding party.
2009: At one point, I had six or seven cats gathered around me, watching in fascination as the plastic dragonfly flapped and flapped.
2008: No entry.
2007: Talk about your come-hither look!
2006: Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats.
2005: “What can I do to convince you to adopt Sugarbutt?”