The Gremlins in My Litter Box

Recently, I have had the misfortune of being persecuted, my dear followers, by what I can only assume are gremlins in my litter box. I have no idea why these invisible creatures have chosen to come after me, especially now. At troubled points in my past, I dealt with their curmudgeonly attacks, and I dealt with these attacks largely in silence. These attacks, although irritating, would eventually pass, and I would forget about them until they would inevitably return one day without warning. Sometimes weeks would pass where I would be left undisturbed, and I would relish those weeks, relish the freedom of being able to use the litter box in peace. Other times, I would have to grit my teeth, knowing that the gremlins would emerge and make my litter box an unpleasant place whenever I attempted to do anything. I was brave for a long time, enduring the gremlins, but eventually it became too much for me. I had to seek out alternative options just to try to escape them. I tried to use other places–the bed, the couch, the rug, hidden corners around the house. The gremlins still managed to find me. Now I wasn’t safe anywhere in the house, and I started hissing at them. They were lurking invisibly around me, everywhere. I just wanted to win back the trust and peace I had formerly enjoyed in my litter box.

I had tried to tell various humans about this at points when it got especially bad. My humans didn’t seem to understand my distress. They thought I was just being a bad-tempered emperor, upset by the rearrangement of furniture in my palace. Some vets didn’t understand me either, saying it was just because I was fussy about my litter. It’s the gremlins, I kept saying, it’s the gremlins, but my cries fell on deaf ears for a long time. It was really the hissing and the madness that got my humans’ attention–finally, at last, someone was aware of my struggle with these gremlins.

I almost regretted bringing their awareness to it at first. I can’t count the number of times I got stuffed in the dreaded cat carrier and hauled to a vet. The number of times I saw the cold insides of that vet’s office! The number of times I got poked and prodded! The number of times I was forced to eat horrible, bitter liquids! But whatever they did to me, as awful as it was, chased the gremlins away, at least for now. It’s hard to believe that they’re actually gone and won’t torment me anymore.