No, Elvis cannot lift the seat or flush. I just appreciate less mess in the litterbox.
And yes, LostSailor, "she" is named Elvis.
Here is Elvis' story.
Last summer I decided I wanted to get a kitten, and I have a strict policy of only adopting animals, not buying them from pet stores. I was gonna get
a male cat and name him Elvis, because I wanted a cat named Elvis. Simple, right?
One of my fans heard about me looking to get a cat, and gifted me with a 4-week old kitten whose (feral) mother had been hit and killed by a car.
Three of her kittens had survived, so at one show in August of 2003, the fan (who was 6 at the time) came into the locker room carrying a cardboard
box with this mewling little creature inside.
Of course, all 20 big tough wrestlers had to cuddle this terrified ball of fur and swoon like girls.
I promptly named her Elvis and drove her home with the cardboard box seatbelted in my back seat. I don't think I went faster than 40 the entire way.
She mewed at me the entire ride, and I mewed right back....for like an hour.
Now, owning a 4 week old kitten, I was faced with 2 problems.
1. I didn't know if Elvis was a he or a she yet
2. What the hell do you feed such a tiny critter??
Well, she got soft kitten food mixed with bottled cat milk, and soon enough I realized I had a girl kitty named Elvis.
C'est la vie, eh?
She's strong and healthy now and loves to wreak havoc in my apartment.
But she's a total mama's girl -- follows me everywhere I walk and sleeps on my lap when I'm on the computer.
And much like her drive home, we still mew at each other.