With the kitties, I would point to the place where the box was and simply hiss at them when they digressed. There wasn’t much training; I simply moved them over to where the box was and if they needed a reminder they were promptly shown, again, where the litter box was. Occasionally they would glare at me, vengefully, usually after a long day and the food bowl was low, and piss on the floor right in front of me. Then they would get kicked outside for kitty time-out.
So let’s start with that. It’s not like I can kick the kid out. Um, hello, felony? And though I have tried the “let’s remind you where your piss box is” tactic again, it is much more efficient with a cat. They follow along with their noses and then look up at me like, “Litter box. Check.” Kaiya wanders off to get her toy crown. The reward for her though was much better than for them. When the cats finally started peeing in their box, I thought, oh good, I don’t have to clean the floor so much anymore. The other night when Kaiya, quite by accident I think, peed for the first time in her potty, my husband and I started screaming and dancing. The child looked up at us like we had done lost our minds. Then she pointed at her vajayjay and grinned.
Cats learn quickly, but toddlers not so much. Ever since the big pee day she hasn’t shown the slightest interest in the potty. It might as well be a coffee table. So we are back to asking her if she needs to pee pee and excitedly pointing at the potty a gazillion times a day and she is back to rolling her eyes at her in her best Kaiya-as-a-teenager impression. And in the spirit of unanimity, the cats have banded together with her and started peeing everywhere but the litter box. Ah. Let the chaos begin. I smell that “t” word. The one they use to describe children who are of a certain age. And I smell pee.