#Cat Peeing Toilet

[sidetongue]

this beautiful idiot went to live with someone else and honestly, both of our QOL are much better HAHA

[eviefrve]

oh ya I can rant on here and my bf won't see it. dude quit his job to focus on uni which is whatever but this means I will very very rarely get any time completely alone in our flat and that. may drive me insane.

[altruistic-meme]

once again wondering how cats have the exact perfect timing to only come and cuddle with me when im literally 10 seconds away from standing up

[bioswear]

Yeah okay so maybe being forced to go into the office two days of the week is actually healthy for me

[papillionsoul]

I don't want to be a kinky housewife anymore. I want to be a cat. No pain, no existential crisis, just meow meow.

[none-asked]

The cats are named Luna, Harry, and Roman. They are all special and stupid and I love them.

[mrfoox]

Living alone with my cats is my anti social younger selfs biggest dream. Sorry I can't sleep over... No my cats need to be fed sorry.... I need to be home before 8pm...

[terezillustrations]

Considering I use my bed as my work desk and my cat is currently using my bed as his toilet, for the next few days until I get a desk put in, I will be unable to work on my art projects. Gonna take the time to show him that, even though I’m *very* frustrated (especially considering he peed right on my equipment while I was gone last night - it still works though), I still love him and I want to figure out what’s going on health wise that’s got his house-training all twisted up. Send me patience😓

[mountainviewmoose]

i know you are full of curiosity and whimsy but c'mon, buddy

[kawaiiinla]

Ummm

idk which blog I should post this on but like... do bidet makers think people pee out of their vaginal canals? or is this just my bidet? can someone tell Toto "that's not how the vagina works," please? thank you.

[monstersflashlight]

As per @myrunawaysweets request and my own indulgence, here it is part 2 of Misunderstanding your werewolf boyfriend (can be found here). Enjoy!

“Why are you peeing on my petunias?”

Werewolf x gn!reader || sfw || tw: pee

“Doesn’t it smell like piss around the garden?” He looks at you with big eyes, surprised by your question. “I think we might have some wild cats living outside or something,” you tell him, munching on your snacks.

“Su- sure. That must be it,” he stutters out a response, but you don’t pay much attention, already forming a plan to look for the cats so you can at least bring them to the shelter.

That conversation registers in your brain lightly, not giving it much thought after that. You believe it’s the cats, but when you let some food outside and it’s left untouched overnight, you start suspecting it might be another kind of problem, maybe parasites. Maybe some kind of fungus is eating your plants… You don’t know what, but you start researching, and bring it up to your werewolf boyfriend a couple times. He acts nonchalantly every time, and you believe he doesn’t know anything about it, how could he?

But you are wrong. So, so wrong.

You come home early one day, your hands full of snacks and groceries, and you step onto the back porch to say hi to him. Your groceries hit the floor when you catch him peeing on your flowers at the edge of your garden.

“Dude! What the fuck?” You scream, mad as hell at him and at the fact that you just dropped your bags and your eggs probably broke. Fucking hell.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says, but continues peeing. His eyes never leaving you as he does so. You are so mad you can almost feel smoke coming out of your ears.

You look at him, stomping his way and stopping a couple meters away as he tucks himself back in his pants. “Why were you peeing in my petunias?” You ask, trying to sound rational but failing, your tone murderous.

And he makes it worse when he says: “I- I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” You ask, your patience running very low at that point.

“I can’t control it,” he says, looking at the floor and blushing.

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying so you have to ask: “You can’t control your bladder?” That can’t be it though, you know it can, you’ve seen him pee inside more than once. He acts like a normal adult most of the time even if he has some weird quirks you associate with him being a wolf.

He looks at you like you are stupid, and you almost want to kick him for it. He was the one peeing on your flowers, but you are the stupid one? No way. Before you can verbalize that he says: “What? No! I mean yes. I can control my bladder, but…” He stops mid sentence, looking bashfully at you, like it’s self explanatory.

“But what?” You press.

“But I need to mark my territory,” he finally confesses.

You are even more confused than before. “What territory? We have a fucking house, with toilets. Inside toilets,” you are trying to breathe through your teeth to avoid screaming, but it’s been really hard. Who knows what werewolf pee can do to your flowers, you took care of them for so long…

“But… But… But you live here,” he says, like it explains everything.

And then it clicks, and it only makes you madder. “I am your territory?” You ask, incredulous and angry. “It’s the 21st century!”

“I know. I know,” he looks so pathetic that your anger dissipates instantly. You bet that if he was in his werewolf form his ears would be down and his tail would be twitching in embarrassment. “I just… I can’t stop it. I want everyone around to know you aren’t an unclaimed female.” You arch an eyebrow at him, confused and annoyed by his use of words. “Not in a bad way, my wolf just… I need to mark the territory so any other monster knows you are my mate,” he finally confesses in a soft tone. That makes so much sense you want to coo at him.

“And you have to pee my petunias for that? You could have just asked me to marry you,” you deadpan, surprising both of you at your outburst. You cover your mouth with a hand, trying to bring your words back into your mouth, but obviously unable to.

“What?” He looks hopeful, a spark of something deep and bright shining in his eyes.

“Okay…” You take a deep breath, trying to decide how to deal with this. But a part of your brain already decided what you want to do, what you want him to be in your life. “I guess it’s time then… Would you marry me?” You ask, anxious all of sudden. Everything between you two has been like a dream, but right now you aren’t sure of anything.

But he doesn’t let you overthink it. “I- Yes!” He exclaims, his eyes as big as plates as he looks at you, mesmerized, like you just gave him the best gift of his life.

He closes the distance between you two and rests his forehead against yours, his hands framing your face. You try to forget that he was just peeing and he definitely didn’t wash his hands. Disgusting. “Would you stop peeing on my petunias now?” You ask jokingly, tears in your eyes as your brain fully processes what just happened. You asked him to marry you… and he said yes. You are getting married to your werewolf boyfriend. Oh lord.

“I’ll try,” he whispers before closing the distance between you two and kissing you senseless.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I closed the bathroom door to pee with a little privacy (other people with cats are already shaking their heads at me) because Weevil is being particularly clingy this afternoon, and when she’s like this and I go to the bathroom, she immediately jumps on my naked lap, which is cute but also. Honey I am trying to piss. So I closed the door, and now the baby is CRYING, she is WEEPING, she is scrambling her little claws against the wood and mewling, all of which is turns out is actually more distracting to the whole process I’m trying to start in here, on account of it being hard to relax when you are also wondering if you’re history’s greatest monster, so fine fine, the cat wins. I got up, shuffled over to the door, and let her in, at which point she ran between my legs and jumped up on the toilet bowl. I’m not sure what her end goal was here because Weevil is the clumsiest cat I’ve ever met, so she instantly slipped, got her front legs soaked in in the miraculously still unused toilet, jumped six feet in the air, and knocked over every knock overable item in her immediate vicinity. And now she’s SO SAD again because I won’t let this creature still damp with toilet water sit in my lap. I am raising a toddler with claws.

[dontopenfairies]

She pulls up to the curb alongside a huge green lawn. There’s supposed to be a free concert in the park today. She turns off the car and looks at her boyfriend.

“Let me take kitty for a second while you eat your snack,” she says, taking his black stuffed cat from him and setting it on the dashboard. She rummages around in the bag and finds a granola bar for him. “Here you go, sweetheart. Eat that and then we’ll try to find the festival.”

After they get out of the car, she passes him the big bag. “You’re carrying that,” she says. “Stick kitty in the big pocket. And then there’s sunscreen on the inside zipper pocket. Make sure you get your nose.”

It’s a long walk through the park to get there. “Are you excited?” she asks. “I’m really excited.” She stops him to take pictures of him next to the prettiest flowers and trees.

There’s a huge crowd of people around the bandstand. They can hear the murmur of people from the top of the little path down the hillside to get there. “Wow,” she says. “I think I forgot what crowds sound like. Maybe a Covid thing.” He reaches out and she grabs his hand as they get closer.

Everyone cheers when the band comes out. They start to play and the crowd applauds. Little groups of people around the perimeter are dancing.

He gets a little closer to her. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Um…I don’t know,” he whispers.

“Is the crowd stressing you out? You seem a little bit anxious.”

He nods. “I wet myself a little bit,” he whispers in her ear.

“Aww, sweetheart, and you don’t have a diaper today.” She surveys the damage as subtly as she can. Good thing he’s wearing black pants today.

“I think I need a toilet,” he says.

“Okay, let’s go find somewhere.” She’s wearing a flannel over her tank top, so she pulls it off and wraps it around his waist, tying it at the front. “That’ll cover you a little bit if you leak more, okay, honey?”

Now to find a toilet.

“Oh, that guy can tell us!” she says, looking at a man with a hi-vis staff vest on. “Excuse me? Hi, um, we’re looking for a bathroom.”

“Porta-potties that-a-way,” says the man, pointing.

She thanks him as they hurry over. The porta-potties are between two big, flowering bushes, but it isn’t enough to mask their smell.

The larger, accessible toilet is in use so they have to cramp into one of the small ones. The plastic walls are trapping heat inside.

“Yuck, it’s gross in here,” she says. She reaches out and opens the bag, still on his arm, and pulls out kitty and hands it to him.

“Wait, you aren’t changing me, are you?”

“What do you mean? You need a change, she says, pulling a thin adult diaper out of the bag.

“I’m not going in the toilet?”

“In there? Did you see how yucky it was? This’ll be so much better. Besides, I can tell you want it today.”

“Why? Just because I was holding my stuffie in the car?”

She unzips his pants and pulls them down along with his underwear. Even though they’ve been together for two years, he still gets shy when he’s exposed to her.

“No,” she says, getting the lotion and baby powder from the bag. “Well, not just that. Just from how shy and nervous you’ve seemed all day. Not to mention clingy.”

“Nuh-uh!” he retorts as she pulls the diaper around his front and tapes the sides. “I wasn’t THAT clingy…”

“You wanted to sit on the same side as me in the booth in the diner,” she says. “And you were hanging on to me the whole time. I almost expected I’d have to spoon-feed you your lunch.”

“Noo! You’d never have to spoon-feed me! I can do that myself!”

“Can you hold your pee by yourself, too?” she asks, watching his diaper swelling. He bends over, as far as the cramped portapottie allows him to, and presses on his bladder to get out the last bit.

“So cute,” she says, almost to herself, as she pulls his underwear and pants back up over the diaper. It’s a little harder to zip his pants up now that the diaper is swollen.

“You’re gonna stretch out my underwear,” he whines.

“I’m not getting a pants change?” he asks as she opens the portapottie door.

“Do you think there’s room in there to get your pants all the way off and your extra pair on?” she asks, holding the door open for him.

“No…”

They walk to the little sink next to the portapotties and she washes her hands.

“You should wash, too,” she says, taking kitty from him and stowing it in the bag.

“Okay,” he says. He hates the smell of the portapottie soap. Luckily, when he’s done, she sprays his hands with the lavender-scented hand sanitizer she keeps in the bag. So much better.

“Do you want to try again,” she asks, gesturing to the crowd. “Or do you want to go home?”

“I’ll try again!”

It just takes a couple more songs before he gets squirmy again. It’s getting hotter, and someone is smoking weed nearby, and more people are joining the crowd behind them, pressing in.

“I’m really trying, but I think I just need to go home,” he says. “Or somewhere quiet.”

“Okay, let’s go down to the grove,” she says, leading him by the hand through the crowd and across the lawn and down to the little area between the hills. There’s a ring of trees with a bench in the middle and they sit down.

He takes out his water bottle and takes a sip.

“Are you feeling better here?” she asks, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry I wanted to leave. I know you wanted to see the concert.”

“I wanted to hang out with you,” she says. “I just thought maybe the free concert would be fun. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” he says, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“Remember what I told you before? Sometimes things seem like a really big deal in the moment, but as soon as it’s over, you can see that it’s all okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He closes his eyes. He can hear the sound of the band, warped and far away. And the sound of cars on the road just outside of the park. He can feel the strap of her tank top and her warm skin on his cheek, her shoulder rising and falling with her breath.

“Now you’re happy, sitting here with me holding you. But don’t think I’ll forget how bratty you were in the portapottie when we get home. You’re definitely getting a punishment for talking back to me and whining about wearing a diaper you clearly need.” She rubs his shoulder. “Oh, don’t blush. I could tell you wanted a diaper on, I can tell when you want a little punishment, too.”

[mousegirlheart]

i love my son so much he's such a therapy cat, he comes to me when i cry and follows me room to room so im never alone and is fantastic for recognising hallucinations but by god has he got separation anxiety. i put a door between us and he will start screaming, crying and will eventually headbutt the door with all the force of the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan.

pictured here standing on his own toilet while intently watching me pee (he's helping???)

[silencedrowns]

rating Halloween toilet decor at my local Michael’s

The classic skeleton on a skeleton shaped toilet. 8/10. you cannot go wrong with a spooky dookie but the book made of bone is definitely not it

Ichabod Crane toilet. 7/10. Points for originality with a less common Halloween figure and the satisfyingly smug pumpkin face, but points lost for confusing denim boot covers and the way the pumpkin isn’t reading the book whatsoever. Also makes me wonder if the axe is for toilet paper.

Dracula toilet. 4/10 for boring sculpt, bad paint job, baffling makeup, and the fact that Anne Rice says vampires don’t need to use the bathroom. Not that I believe Anne Rice about everything, but it’s funny to bring up the time Lestat gets body swapped into a normal body and spends way too many pages describing the feeling of peeing.

Frankenstein’s monster. 10/10 this is perfect. The pose, the sculpt, the self referential book… this monster knows what he’s about and even though like all these other toilet figures he’s wearing pants, it’s fine. Top tier silly. I love his face and I genuinely contemplated buying this for about 30 seconds before I realized then I’d have to own and find a place for a Frankenstein toilet figure.

Edgar Allan Poe on the toilet. 9/10 this is the only time I’m deducting points for “but he’s still wearing pants!” because this is an actual human figure, but I’m adding a ton of points back for how scrunkly he is and the large amount of accessories.

Laptop skeleton toilet. THIS IS PERFECTION 100/10. The pose, so familiar to anyone who’s had to use a computer for news or bad social media or zoom. The silly ghost not quite Apple logo. The jointed knees letting you bat at the feet like a cat with a toy. You cannot improve on this. One of my favorite objects in the Michael’s Halloween section of all time. This skeleton is a mood and an icon and I love it so, so very much.

Hey Michael’s? What in the actual fuck is this. I’m not even going to rate this because this is literally just a regular toilet, not a Halloween toilet. “Oh it has a snake on it” snakes alone do not make something Halloween or have we all forgotten about Britney Spears with the yellow python (top 10 “how did I think I was straight” moments). Send whoever designed this embarrassment to remedial Halloween school where they have to design anatomically improbable skeletons. IT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A SEAT YOU’D FALL RIGHT IN THIS THING SUCKS

[sandersstudies]

My cat all day long: that is the toilet. which I don’t care about.

My cat as soon as I have to pee: WAht is this mysteroius white climbable I shall sit atop it immediaetly