Kittens have terrible depth perception and even worse coordination. They are basically tiny drunk ninjas. When they go to bury, they rely on instinct, not a blueprint. They scratch at the air, the wall, the litter box edge—anything but the actual poop.
Kitten Steps In Poop When Trying To Bury It | Detroit Chinatown
It’s like when you’re trying to parallel park and you completely miss the curb. You knew what you wanted to do, but your feet and hands had other plans. The kitten’s brain says, “Bury the stink!” but the paw says, “Let’s go for a wade.” Priorities, people.
And let’s not forget the litter itself. Some brands are too clumpy, some are too dusty. It’s like giving a toddler a sandbox made of flour and expecting neatness. The kitten doesn’t stand a chance. It’s a recipe for accidental poop-touching from the start.
The Cleanup Crew
Now you enter the picture, the loyal human servant. You sigh, grab a wipe, and approach the cat like a bomb disposal expert. The kitten looks at you with big, innocent eyes, completely unaware that its paw is a biological weapon. “Why are you grabbing me, servant?” it seems to ask. “I was doing fine.”
You try to clean the paw, and the kitten wiggles like a fish on a line. It’s a battle of wills. You are trying to be gentle, but the kitten is convinced you are trying to steal its soul through its toes. Spoiler: you win, but you’re covered in litter.
Kitten Steps In Poop When Trying To Bury It | Detroit Chinatown
And here’s the real kicker: after the cleanup, the kitten walks away like nothing happened. It jumps onto the couch, sits on your lap, and purrs. It has no memory of the disaster. Zero guilt. Infinite confidence. Meanwhile, you are washing your hands for the fourth time, questioning your life choices.
