Time to Celebrate Our Feline Companions with International Cat Day

# 🐾 **WMEO BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN** We Meow. You Listen…

Two cats sit behind a newsroom-style anchor desk labeled ā€œWMEO 9.ā€ The orange cat and the black cat each have a sheet of paper in front of them, with a microphone centered between them. Behind the desk is a blurred cityscape and multiple monitors, creating the look of a professional news studio.
**Dateline: Taunton — August 8**
**Subject: International Cat Day Launches with Global #ThinkCAT Initiative**

This just in from the WMEO Newsroom:
Today is International Cat Day, and the world is celebrating with this year’s official theme — #ThinkCAT — a three‑part mission to help humans everywhere level up their feline care.

WMEO’s esteemed anchors, Banner and Balboa, have issued the following guidance from their respective command centers.

C — Cat Friendly

 

Banner, reporting from atop the newsroom printer (which he has declared a sovereign nation):
ā€œCat-friendly means predictable routines, quiet zones, and respect for our delicate emotional ecosystems. Also, stop moving chairs without notifying us.ā€

 

 

 

 

Balboa, speaking from inside his fortified cardboard bunker:
ā€œMobile vets count as cat-friendly. They come to *us*, which is correct. Please continue this policy.ā€

A — Annual Check-ups

WMEO Health Desk notes that cats are elite-level illness hiders.
Annual exams are essential — even if the exam requires… additional measures.

Balboa’s official statement:
ā€œI must be medicated to survive my yearly physical. I do not apologize. I am simply built different.ā€

Banner adds:
ā€œI personally enjoy performing my own check-ups by screaming at birds.ā€

T — Tips & Advice

Expert-backed guidance helps cats thrive from kittenhood to their senior years.
WMEO’s Science Desk encourages humans to stay informed, stay gentle, and stay stocked with treats.

Balboa’s tip

ā€œBreakfast in bed. Every day. Forever.ā€

Balboa notes that this practice supports:

  • Reduced morning stress
  • Improved human compliance
  • Optimal biscuit‑making conditions
  • A smoother transition from Sleep Mode to Guardian Mode

He further clarifies that breakfast should be delivered directly to the box, bed, blanket fort, or designated soft zone, depending on the day’s emotional landscape.

Banner’s tip:
ā€œIf your cat stares at you from across the room, they are either admiring you or plotting. Both are valid.ā€ Banner gooes on to respond to Balboa’s Breakfast tip: by demanding ā€œsecond breakfast,ā€ citing fairness.

 

How to Participate

WMEO encourages viewers to join the celebration:
– Highlight one Cat Friendly change you’ve made at home
– Remind friends to book their cats’ annual check-ups (mobile vets welcome and endorsed)
– Display the ā€œSupporting International Cat Day 2026ā€ badge proudly

WMEO Editorial Note:

Banner has proposed turning International Cat Day into a federally recognized holiday.
Balboa has proposed snacks.

End of bulletin. Please resume your regularly scheduled scrolling.

 

 

The Daily Cat Food Circus: Banner the Crunchy Monk & Balboa the Diva Prince

 

Two cats sitting on a carpeted floor near a sliding glass door — an orange tabby with a fluffy tail and a black cat with bright yellow eyes — with a beige cat tree and a blue mat in the background.

Meet My Boys: Banner the Crunchy Monk and Balboa the Diva Prince

My boys’ eating habits are going to be the end of me. I swear I spend more money on cat food than on my own groceries, and for what? For Banner—my chunky, overweight orange tabby who cosplays as Garfield but without Garfield’s enthusiasm for literally anything edible. No lasagna, thank you.Ā 

Banner eats one thing: crunchies. Dry, boring, hairball‑preventive nuggets of kitty kibble. That’s it. Six years of the same crunch nuts. Six. Years. Why isn’t he sick of it?

Every morning I top off his bowl—carefully measured, because he’s already shaped like a decorative throw pillow—and he sits there politely, takes two bites, and walks away like a man who just tasted a wine flight and found it ā€œacceptable.ā€ Then he nibbles on that same bowl all day. Predictable. Calm. Reasonable. Honestly, he’s the only stable man in my life.

Balboa: The Morning Diva Who Demands Breakfast in Bed

And then… there’s Balboa.

Balboa is a diva. A dramatic little man-cat who believes he is entitled to breakfast in bed. I wake up with his ā€œlittleā€ body plastered to my side (he’s not little anymore, but don’t tell him that). If I dare move, he gives me a look like I’ve ruined his entire morning. ā€œBring me breakfast, hooman slave.ā€ In your dreams, sir.

I stagger to the kitchen, swap bowls, give Banner his crunchies… but Balboa? Nowhere. He’s still in bed, waiting for his royal summons.

The Wet Food Ritual That Never Goes as Planned

I set his can of wet food on the counter—not opening it yet—and head to the bathroom. As I pass the bed, a tiny black head pops up from the pillows like a dramatic groundhog predicting six more weeks of attitude.

Back in the kitchen? Still no Balboa.

I refuse to put out his wet food until he joins us, so I go to my desk to do my morning routine—blood sugar test, emails, the usual. Eventually, anywhere from five minutes to an hour later, His Majesty saunters in, stretches, meows loudly… and walks straight to Banner’s bowl to eat crunchies.

Crunchies. The SAME crunchies he has ignored for years.

The Manipulation Begins: ā€œFeed Me Now, Hoomanā€

I try to let it go. I try to ignore his ā€œI’m starvingā€ whimpers. But then he starts scratching me like a tiny furry velociraptor. Fine. I feed him.

Does he eat his very expensive almost‑a‑dollar‑a‑can wet food? Of course not. He walks away and finds a box to sit in for the day. He got what he wanted: he made me serve him breakfast, even if he has no intention of eating it.

The Waste, the Budget, and the Vet Who Says He’s Overweight

I don’t waste my food.Ā  My grocery trips areĀ  planned and meals portioned out. I stretch leftovers. But Balboa? He licks the gravy and leaves the rest like a toddler rejecting vegetables.

He’s not starving—last year the vet said he was overweight by a pound. He’s definitely flunking his physical this year.

I’ve tried skipping his morning meal, but if I want peace in the house, that’s not an option. He is persistent. He is dramatic and he is very spoiled.

Conclusion: I Live With a Diva Cat and a Crunchy Monk

He is… a diva cat. And I am his exhausted, financially ruined, gravy‑scraping servant.

Do Cats Really Need a $900 bathroom?

Three cats interact with a Litter‑Robot automated litter box, with one cat sitting inside the $900 self‑cleaning unit and two others standing nearby in a modern home. Great example of how multi‑cat households use high‑end automatic litter boxes.

Litter Robots and other AutomatedĀ  Kitty Litters

Do the cats really need a $900 bathroom? Probably not. But after looking at what these robo‑cans can do — and what I’m spending every month on disposable boxes — I’m starting to think the question might actually be: does the hooman need one?Ā  And lets face it, not every automated litter box is $900. That’s just the top of the line. The less expensive models start at around $200.

They’ve Come a Long Way, Baby

It’s been more than 20 years since one of my kitties used an automated litter box. Back then, the ā€œfancyā€ version was basically a plastic tray with a rake, a timer, and a little box to collect the dirty litter. It made noise, it jammed, and it was about as subtle as a blender.

Fast‑forward to today and you’d hardly recognize the new generation. We’ve gone from clunky rectangles to sleek circular robo‑cans that look like they’re preparing for re‑entry. They’re quieter, more efficient, and definitely more dramatic.

But instead of listening to me ramble, let’s let our furry consultants — Banner and Balboa — chime in on the real‑world pros and cons. Can these high‑tech contraptions actually make life easier for the hoomans?

Let’s hear what the boys have to say.

Banner and Balboa Review the Robo‑Cans

Banner’s Take

ā€œLook, I’m a reasonable guy. I don’t mind a little technology as long as it doesn’t beep at me. Automated litter boxes have their perks — they keep things tidy, they scoop themselves, and they mean my hooman isn’t hovering around with a plastic shovel like she’s panning for gold. Oreo the cat uses one. Abram Engle’s cats use one. Clearly, some felines are living the high‑tech dream.ā€

Banner’s Pros:

  • The box stays cleaner (fewer surprises for the hooman)
  • No waiting for someone to remember it’s cleaning day
  • Great for multi‑cat households
  • Cuts down on odor (Banner insists this is Balboa’s fault, not his)

Banner’s Cons:

  • Some models make suspicious noises
  • Mid‑cycle rumbling can interrupt a peaceful bathroom moment
  • If the hooman forgets to empty the waste drawer, the whole system gets cranky
  • Expensive — Banner says the money should go toward treats

Balboa’s Take

ā€œI don’t trust anything that moves without me telling it to. I’m a simple man. I dig, I cover, I leave. But I will admit — the automated box does keep my paws cleaner. And I like a fresh surface every time. Still, I’m watching it. Closely.ā€

Balboa’s Pros:

  • Fresh litter every visit
  • Less tracking around the house
  • No hooman hovering with judgmental eyes
  • Great for cats who appreciate cleanliness (Balboa says this is him, obviously)

 

Balboa’s Cons:

  • The machine occasionally hums like it’s plotting
  • Some units are too small for ā€œmajestic gentlemen of substanceā€
  • If the sensors fail, it becomes a very expensive sandbox
  • Balboa believes anything with a motor is ā€œup to somethingā€

So… What’s With the App?

The last time I used an automated litter box, there was no app — just a timer and a prayer. Today’s robo‑cans are basically little computers with litter inside, and the app is a big part of how they work.

Here’s what the app actually does (and why you might care):

1. Tracks your cat’s bathroom habits

The box can tell:

  • how often each cat goes
  • how long they stay
  • if someone is suddenly going more or less
  • if a cat hasn’t used the box in hours (a medical red flag)

For multi‑cat households, this is huge. Banner and Balboa would basically have their own bathroom analytics.

2. Alerts you when the waste drawer is full

No more guessing. The app politely pings you:

  • ā€œDrawer full.ā€
  • ā€œLitter low.ā€
  • ā€œSensor blocked because someone kicked litter into the corner again.ā€

3. Lets you control the cleaning cycle

You can:

  • start a cleaning cycle
  • pause it
  • adjust the wait time after a cat leaves
  • turn off the machine at night

Great for nervous cats (Balboa) who don’t want the box coming alive mid‑pee.

4. Helps diagnose problems

If something jams, the app tells you:

  • what jammed
  • how to fix it
  • whether the sensor is dirty
  • whether the motor is struggling

5. Multi‑cat identification

Some models can tell which cat used the box based on:

  • weight
  • timing
  • pattern

This is how Oreo’s hooman and Abram Engle keep track of their cats’ health.

6. Remote monitoring

If you’re away for the day, you can check:

  • is the box working
  • is the drawer full
  • did the cats use it normally

Peace of mind for anxious hoomans.

Where I Stand on MeoWant (For Now)

I originally joined MeoWant’s affiliate program because their branding is gorgeous and their blog posts are genuinely helpful. But after digging deeper into real‑world feedback, I’m not quite ready to promote their litter box. So far, the only reviews I can find are on Reddit — and Reddit tends to skew negative on everything, so it’s hard to get a clear picture.

Since we haven’t had the opportunity to try MeoWant ourselves, I’m putting this partnership on pause for now. I only recommend products I trust, and I want more solid information before I give it my stamp of approval.

In the meantime, you can check them out for yourself here. If you decide to give them a try, I’d genuinely love to hear about your experience.

So… Is an Automated Litter Box Worth It?

For us, the jury’s still out — but the idea gets a solid thumbs‑up. I spend about $90 a month on Kitty Poo Club for three boxes and litter. At that rate, an automated litter box would basically pay for itself in about three months, and the ongoing supplies (litter + the occasional filter or liner) couldn’t possibly add up to the same $90 monthly cost. Even if the boys decide the robo‑can is ā€œplotting,ā€ the math is hard to ignore. Cleaner paws, fewer odors, less scooping, and long‑term savings? That’s at least worth keeping on the table… or in this case, in the bathroom.

Final Thought

If the future of cat bathrooms is robotic, Banner and Balboa say they’re willing to adapt… as long as the robot remembers who actually runs this house.

This post contains an affiliate link to MeoWant. If you make a purchase through that link, the Dusty Roads team (with enthusiastic supervision from Banner and Balboa) may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Your support helps keep the blog — and the cats — happily exploring new things.

2024 Rewind Banner’s Big Adventure

2024 Rewind Banner’s Big Adventure. Since Balboa starred in this morning’s post, it felt right to give Banner his moment too Please enjoy this flashback from July 13, 2024

Banner’s Big Adventure

Everyone has Big Adventures. Remember Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure? And there’s Thomas the Tank Engine. There’s a whole series of books about those adventures.Ā  We mustn’t forgetĀ Bill and Ted’s Excellent AdventureĀ . So why shouldn’tĀ BannerĀ have an adventure too?

Escape Artist

Everyone knows Banner is the World’s Greatest Escape Artist. Houdini had nothing on him. If the door is opened even a crack he’s out! Through your legs, through the door, Tail in the air he heads for Freedom.Ā  Then he makes friends with anyone standing in the hall. All my neighbors know him. He even met Bella, one of the neighborhood dogs. A big dog.Ā  That cured his escapes for about a month.Ā 

Locked Outside

Anyway back to this BIG ADVENTURE.Ā 

I was working. I have a part time jobĀ  as a Door Dasher. I try to put in a couple of hours every weekday. I save weekends for when the week has been slow and I need to make a little more. If I’ve met my self imposed quota for the week I get the weekend off. Anyway, I was ā€œDashingā€ and not at home when my longtime housekeeper came to save me from being overwhelmed by cat hair. Mainly Banner’s. With this over the top heat he’s been shedding like crazy even though I brush him everyday. She’s been helping me out for 4 years since I freely admit I’m not the best housekeeper in the world.Ā 

So she was in my apartment on her own. She’s heard me say every time she comes by ā€œDon’t let the Cat out.ā€ ā€ Watch out for Banner He likes toĀ escape.ā€ But clearly she never ā€œheardā€ me. Somehow She let Banner out. Not sure if he got out when she came in or when she left. All I know is that when I got home Balboa was there but no Banner.Ā  I’d just finished searching the apartment when I heard a faint MEOW.

Welcome Back, Banner

I stood very still and listened. The meows were coming from the front door. So I opened it and there the little miscreate was. As soon as the door opened he shot inside. I don’t know where he was hiding because he wasn’tĀ  in the hall when I came home. My upstairs neighbor was just coming in the outside door and said he was wondering if that was my cat.Ā  I’ll have to ask him if he let Banner in from the great outdoors or if Banner was just in the hall when he came in. In any case I hope Banner has learned his lesson, at least for the next month or two.Ā Ā 

 

 

We hope you enjoyed this Blast From the Past

Those Silly Kitty Cats Are at It Again

 

And a Four‑Year Mystery Is Finally Solved

Banner and Balboa, those silly kitties,Ā  have a talent — not just for finding things, but for finding the exact things I don’t want them to find. Rubber bands, paper clips, bottle caps, the occasional bug… and yes, even my car keys. (If you missed Banner’s infamous key‑hiding caper, you can read the full story here: Tale of the Lost Keys — October 3, 2021.)

Their preferred playground is the middle of my tiny kitchen floor. Runner‑up: the bathtub. At least in the bathroom they’re out from underfoot.

Anyway, there has been a mystery in my house for more than four years. It only ever annoyed me when I wanted to use my food processor — and only when I wanted to grate carrots — so you can see why it wasn’t exactly top of mind.

The Food Processor Era Begins

I bought that food processor in a moment of weakness. A literal one. I had just shredded a five‑pound bag of carrots by hand for a carrot cake, and my arm was about to fall off. My thought was ā€œThere has to be an easier way.ā€ I watch the Food Network. I watch the cooking shows. You drop ingredients in, press a button, and voilĆ  — shreds, purĆ©es, grinds, blends. It was time to modernize.

I brought it home, plugged it in, dropped in a carrot or two, and it worked beautifully. Perfect shreds. Coleslaw here I come. I gave it a place of honor on the counter.

The Carrot Catastrophe

Now, I’m not always the most mechanical of people, and the next time I tried to shred carrots… mush. Tiny bits. Sand. What was going on?

I ran to my computer and watched YouTube videos. Looked simple. Tried again. Same result. Back to the old‑fashioned hand grater I went, but the food processor was still great for bread crumbs, crushing crackers, and grinding honey grahams for pie crusts.

Over the years I kept reviewing how‑to videos and giving carrots another try. No success.

Then one day, I had an epiphany. I Googled the parts of a food processor.

And there it was. The answer to my question. The missing part. The center shaft.

 

I only had the shaft with the blade. So when I put carrots in, they got shredded by the disc and then immediately chopped to bits by the blade underneath. I couldn’t remove the blade without having the center shaft to put in its place.

Head‑slap. Duh.

 

Enter: The Culprit

Okay all you culinary experts, stop laughing. I can explain.

Not long after I got Balboa, I found the little culprit in the kitchen playing with a plastic thing. I had no idea what it was — I thought it was something he found under the sink. He used to go in and out of there all the time, and I figured it was leftover from when the workers replaced the countertops.

Now that I realize what I’m missing, I recognize the thing as the shaft from the food processor.

Needless to say, it’s long gone. It was tossed even before the Great Kitchen Declutter.

Balboa posing in the middle of the kitchen with the food‑processor shaft he ā€˜liberated,’ looking very satisfied with himself.

The Wallet‑Smacking Finale

The worst part? That tiny plastic thingy costs almost as much as a new food processor to replace. Can you believe that.

One small moment of stupidity… one big bang on the wallet. But at least I finally know why I couldn’t shred carrots with my food processor.

When that part gets here, I may have to make a carrot cake to celebrate.