A Disgusting Flair Moment I Couldn't Help

I'm emptying a litter box this morning, and I think to myself that it's impossible to find flair in a moment like this.

I didn't even want cats.  My animal loving, tender-hearted husband rescued two and added them to our already happy, one-cat family.  You know that story (with pictures) from an earlier blog post. 

With three cats, you have to empty the litter box.  If you don't, they won't use it and will find other places to go.   

There I am, combing the litter for those little deposits, finding them, clearing them out, and smoothing the litter for a fresh new day, and I realize how satisfying it is to prepare the litter box like that.  It is so. . . cleansing. 

Combing for the refuse, removing it, and smoothing out the area makes me visualize my own mind.

I realize this is disgusting and a little bizarre.  But if I'm going to be true to the flair moment, I record these things out of duty (no pun intended).

If you've never emptied a litter box, you might not know you need one indispensable tool:  The Pooper Scooper. 

I want one of these for my mind and heart.  I'd run the Pooper Scooper along the surface of my mind, gather up any trash, and get it out of there before it stinks everything up.   And I realize I'd have to do it daily to keep things fresh.   Remove the complaining, the negativity, the gossip, the worry.  Remove the fear, the stress, the jealousy.  Just lift everything up with the Pooper Scooper and get it out of of there.

So that's the flair for today.  Sorry about that.