The Family Cat Keeps Shitting In Our Sink And My Parents Are Taking His Side. Help!

Honestly, it feels like a personal attack at this point, and I’ve brought it up repeatedly with my parents. They are clearly on ‘Team Mittens’...

Dear Pearl,

Long-time reader of your Pearls of Wisdom advice column, first-time writer. 

I’m a twenty-year-old college student who is living at home while I complete my degree. Three years ago, my parents got a cat named Mittens. To say that my parents love this cat is putting it mildly. They are 100% smitten with Mittens. I’m an only child and a pretty busy guy, so at first, I thought Mittens was a great addition to the family and could fill the void I’d left since I’d grown older and more independent. They started referring to him as my ‘brother.’ I thought it was cute. Weird, but cute.

Things started to take a bad turn a few months after we got Mittens. I’d seen this video on YouTube where people would hide cucumbers near their cats when they weren’t paying attention, and the cats freaked right out! It was hilarious! So, I decided to give it a try one afternoon when my parents were out. Sure enough, Mittens jumped out of his skin and ran across the room. I got the whole thing on video, it went viral on Instagram, and word got back to my parents. They were so upset with me, they gave my dinner to Mittens. For the next two weeks.

A few hours after the cucumber incident, I went to use my bathroom and was assaulted with a horrible stench as I stepped inside. In my sink was the biggest, grossest pile of cat poop I had ever seen. And Mittens was just sitting there, staring at it. It was a very obvious, very deliberate, very smelly form of payback for the cucumber video.

That was just the beginning of what has been an extremely feces-filled and disgusting few weeks. I neglected to give Mittens my cereal milk remains one morning. Boom, shit in the sink. I complain to my parents about Mittens. Boom, shit in the sink. I helpfully move his litter box to a more convenient and central location. Boom, shit in the sink. 

He continues to shit in my sink whenever even the slightest opportunity presents itself. I, obviously, make every attempt to keep the bathroom door closed, but any time the door is left open for even two minutes he’s in there. Shitting in the sink. And I swear, the shits are getting nastier. It’s like he’s purposely eating bad food or something.

Honestly, it feels like a personal attack at this point, and I’ve brought it up repeatedly with my parents. They are clearly on ‘Team Mittens’, repeatedly pointing out that I could simply move out if he bothers me so much.


Just want to brush my teeth in a shit-free sink

Dear Shit-Free Sink,

Have you considered looking at your ‘situation’ from Mittens’ perspective?

  • Mittens entered this family as an outsider, and a fur-covered four-legged one at that. That’s never easy.
  • Just as Mittens was letting his feline guard down, and trusting in his brother, his brother humiliated him in a terrifying act of vegetable dominance and broadcasted his embarrassing reaction to a worldwide audience. 
  • You keep snitching on him to your parents – not cool
  • And now, you’re actually suggesting that he is purposely eating bad food. To what end? To make his sink shits nastier? That’s a pretty self-involved and narcissistic take on something that should actually be cause for concern and possibly a trip to the vet

I saw that cucumber video. What a mortifying and degrading experience for a beautiful creature to have to go through. 

Your parents are 100% correct in that you could simply move out. You’re twenty years old.

I suggest you pick yourself up a copy of Band of Brothers, and learn what it actually means to be a brother.


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Erika Holter
Erika Holter

Erika Holter is a freelance writer and content creator, joining us from her Canadian winter wonderland. When she’s not writing she can be found snowshoeing (winter), camping in the Rocky Mountains (summer), eating poutine, apologizing needlessly, or watching Schitt’s Creek and Anne of Green Gables (okay, we get it, you’re Canadian).

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