I lifted my puffer jacket off its hook. The sound of its swishy material grazing the door it hung against startled my cat, who happened to be using her toilet. Her toilet is a dome-shaped litter box, we joke that it's a space pod. Watch out. She's going to blast off into space. Don't blast off, Chloe, please. We want you to stay on Earth.
I didn't even know she was using her toilet, but the noise I had created scared my cat so much that she popped out of her litter pod, froze, looked me in the eye with such CONCERN, and a nanosecond later a tiny piece of poo fell and landed on her litter-catching mat. My cat puffed up, eyes wide with terror, the expression on her face so serious, her tail bristling straight into the air.
It all happened so quickly, but basically, picture an airborne poo from an airborne cat.
I couldn't help but laugh. I'm so sorry, Chloe, I didn't realize you were using the bathroom. De-puff, girl. De-puff! She stood a moment longer and then darted away at tip-top speed. I moved toward her litter pod to examine the mess, and there on her litter mat was a tiny, tiny piece of poo. It didn't have the typical tapered end. No, it had been sliced right down the middle. Her butthole had shut on it the moment she heard that frightening noise (fabric brushing against a wooden door for approximately 1 second). The poor baby.
I literally scared the shit out of my cat.
I found her hiding under the coffee table in the living room. She was still on high alert, and I begged her pardon and encouraged her to complete her business, which she eventually did when she deemed the coast clear.
Cats are really, truly elegant creatures. Mine especially. She needs a sanctuary of serenity and silence to do her business.