(This is a follow-up to last year’s post on the cat-crap problem. As I said then, if you’re bored or offended by talk of the removal of feline waste products, don’t read this entry any further.)

Our third Littersweep Ultra died a few months ago, worn out the same way as our first one. I’m not completely happy with them anymore, since the newer ones seem to be of an even cheaper quality than the originals. And although our original Littermaid Mega is still working, word around the ‘net is that more recent iterations have lost a lot of the toughness that the original had. So rather than replace the Ultra again, I just went back to scooping it out nightly, an unpleasant but necessary chore.

Necessary, that is, until I discovered a few weeks ago that the Rolls Royce of cat-litter solutions, the Litter Robot, was finally available here. It was expensive, but according to nearly every review I’d seen it’s well worth the price, so I ordered one immediately.

It arrived two weeks ago, on Monday the 25th. I was quite impressed with the workmanship… it’s built like a tank. Between that and the fact that there’s only one part that moves (the gear that rotates the sphere holding the cat litter), it’s easy to see why it holds up so well.

I set it up where the Ultra had been and moved the Ultra across the small hall. I left it turned off at first (as recommended, so that the cats have a chance to get used to it without being startled), but put in cat litter immediately. All three of our furry friends (Oliver, Salem, and Winston) looked it over, but no one ventured close enough to peek inside on the first day. That night, Ollie apparently decided that it was fine and started using it.

With Oliver using it regularly, I had reason to cycle it manually a few times a day. Every time I did, one or two of them would come and watch. Salem was especially fascinated by it, and would sit up on her hind legs like a ferret so that she could see what was going on inside without actually getting near it. By Wednesday evening, some of the novelty seemed to have mostly worn off for them, so I started leaving it on full time.

Winston, scaredy-cat that he is, simply didn’t want to have anything to do with it. He peed on the bathroom door a couple of times before we managed to dissuade him from that, then he went back to using the old box, which I (deliberately) didn’t clean once the new one was in place. By Thursday, it was full enough that he didn’t want to use it either, but still hadn’t worked up the courage to get near the new one. He would complain vociferously when he had to go, but would end up going in the old box. GoddessJ and I tried to gently introduce him to the new one, but he would have nothing to do with it — he wouldn’t fight us, but he would struggle to get away until we let him (apparently he felt safe so long as he was at least eighteen inches away from it). Finally, on Saturday, GoddessJ gently forced him into it. He jumped out again immediately, but a few minutes later decided to climb in on his own and use it.

After using it the first time he immediately bolted out again like it had bitten him, ran downstairs and back, and then swatted it a couple of times. When he didn’t get a reaction to that, he apparently decided that it was safe, and has been using it ever since.

Salem, on the other hand… well, she was a little more stubborn. We saw her in it once on Thursday, but she kept going back to the old one. On Friday, I saw her go into the old box, poke around for a bit (obviously not happy with the housekeeping), look across the hall to the new one, then approach it carefully and swat at it. No reaction, so she cautiously climbed in to do her business before darting out again, not even stopping to try to bury it. From then on she would use it — but only to pee. When she had to poop, she’d go to the old box, vocally complaining all the while (you can see the family resemblance to her brother Winston, I’m sure). When I finally removed the old box on the second Wednesday, she was frantic, and ended up using the bathtub instead. Grumbles, sighs, and appeals to patience, and the next day there was no sign of messes, leading to general happiness on everyone’s part. Premature happiness, because there was another load in the bathtub on Friday. More grumbles and sighs, and placing her in front of the new box whenever she started complaining, and she apparently got the idea at last.

So it seems that the Litter Robot has now been accepted by everyone. I replace the bag in it a couple times a week, and drop in a couple scoops of fresh litter, and otherwise it takes care of everything itself — exactly as an automatic litter box should. Tranquility has been restored to our household.

I’ll post again if anything goes wrong with it, but I don’t foresee any problems from here on, until it dies a natural death from old age. May it have a long and happy life. 🙂