Hell hath no fury like a cat before an unclean litter box

Nutmeg howled a lengthy wake-up concert -the likes of which I've truly never heard- at my door this morning. I finally opened up so we could cuddle for a bit and noticed one of his rear paws felt slightly crusty. No matter; it was early, he is cute, and I soon forgot. Fast forward an hour and I've given a litter box a shower, given my feet and hands a most serious cleanse, tossed my nightgown into the washing machine, mopped the basement floor in and around the laundry room, given a foot bath to a cat. He didn't enjoy it. What happened at the tender time of 7:30am, you might ask!

As best I can piece things together, there was a feline bathroom situation in a litter box whose seams just couldn't handle the degree of fury inside. Had I not scooped yesterday? Cat poop was all of the places I detailed above; wet cat feet look sadly scrawny and chicken-like.

And top of the morning to you too!