Pavlov's Cat

As Katherine would say, problem? What problem?

I'm working from home, for reasons not driven by the cats, but it does allow me to watch them during a work day, when I am more out of their way. After some morning forays by the kittens across my desk, most of the day they all spent napping. No fights, even when Billy, Emily, and I all napped on her bed.

I am wounded, but it wasn't a cat. Rather, that came from our 20 year old +2 hit point +2 stealth glass coffee table, which nailed my shin when I was looking for Whitey after he meowed a few minutes ago. Whitey was fine of course, just another random "has anyone seen my tail" query. However, he did remind me that it was litter box time.

Why does Whitey remind me of litter box time? Because if he sees one being cleaned, he has to use it. This afternoon he set a record, using the downstairs box and both of the boxes in Emily's suite in under ten minutes. (He actually didn't have anything to contribute to the middle of the three boxes, but hey, he tried.) Must be Pavlovian reflex or something. Of course, because we want to encourage them using the boxes, we have to wait when he does his duty. I need to remember to close the closest doors more ...