A room of his own. No, not for our son - he has his bedroom, and his "man cave" (part of the basement). And no, not for my husband (although he would very much LIKE to have a room of his own, and we hope to bless him with that when we get around to finishing the basement). It's B.C., the Bad Cat himself. He's 16 now (give or take a couple weeks), and having more trouble than ever with doing his business in the litter box. Since we won't give him away or send him to a shelter, and putting him down isn't an option (he's not terminally sick or in pain), and using a smaller cage was a resounding failure, we've taken the only step we could think of. We bought a 10' x 10' x 6' chain link dog run, and put it up in the basement.
It has all the comforts of home - litter box, food and water, a soft bed, his scratching post, and even a bench by the window so he can see outside. And it just makes me so sad to know that he'll have to spend much of his remaining time (which may be years still) down there. I won't wake up to him snuggling into me in the morning, and we won't be able to let him out of our sight when we bring him upstairs. I won't get to fall asleep with him purring. It feels like pushing away an old friend, punishing him for something he can't help and is totally clueless is a problem for us. It may be for his own good (and the good of our house), but it stinks.
We had a clear morning and afternoon, and a soccer game for Princess Yakyak after church. Her team didn't win, but she played well. I got quite a sunburn, on my arms and upper chest - ooch, it stings. I forgot the sunscreen. C'est la vie.