Treasure Chest

Thought I put him to sleep, didn't you. If I didn't envision the victory over Lucky to taste like the best scotch EVER--I'm talking scotch that God kept all to himself--I may have had a 3-second moment where I considered Euthanasia. Not for Lucky. Other way around--I would have asked him to assist me in my suicide.

But I put my trust (and complete adoration for this Vet who only speaks the truth) into Fat Luck's prescribed kitty prozac. And we're just past the 2-month mark of Elavil Emancipation from Emperor Lucky's Poop Nation. Guess what I discovered this morning?

POOP IN A BOX.

It was just another morning for me. Sleepy-eyed stumble to the bathroom (but also alert... remember the Lucky lays out land mines in hopes to destroy all socks I own... and my pride), pass by the litter box on my right (as it mocks me and laughs as a vacant litterbox would), I open the bathroom door to my left, switch on the light, which casts its beams onto the litterbox just outside the bathroom, and just as I turn my head to grab the door knob and close the door behind me... I see them.

5 LITTLE DARLINGS. NESTLED IN SAND.

'My mind is playing tricks on me,' I thought with a stupid smile on my face. I lazily closed the door, but didn't shut it all the way because Lucky has a "thing" about me shut in the bathroom (he belts out really annoying deep throat meows and scratches the door). And the Luck squeezed his fat ass through the slightly ajar door. The door slowly creaks open... and the light shines down upon the litterbox again (say "again" like "agayn").

WAS IT LUCKY TRYING TO SHOW ME HIS LITTERBOX? OR WAS IT GOD COMING THROUGH LUCKY TO SHOW ME THE LITTERBOX?

And yes, there they were. 5 jewels, 5 gems, 5 precious stones in the litterbox. As I peed and stared at the box from the toilet, I thought it was strange how my mind was referring to them as expensive jewelry pieces. Then I thought about how funny it would be if the poopies were glittering like that gigantic mound of treasure in Goonies. Then I thought that rather than glittery poop, it would be so much better if those "stinky lines" would appear above the poopies, you know like how the comic books show us something is stinky? For a moment I saw them, the stinky lines, and with the bathroom light (how poetically ironic!) beaming down upon this miracle, I decided to refer to this former vacant litterbox as a treasure chest.

Now I must purchase a bottle of scotch and see what it tastes like.