Mrs. Crab Legs

So I have this cat named Dragon...
Her brother is Frodo Baggins.  Needless to say, Frodo (ring-bearer and savior of Middle Earth) is very busy from sunrise onwards, protecting the ring (hair elastic) from Sauron (our dog Toast), and trying to find his way to Mordor (dark closet under stairs) with his sweet, but slightly dumb companion Sam (Dragon).  Dragon does her very best...but she has long hair.  You have no idea how difficult it is to poop in a litter box, and neither do I, but after much observation I have come to learn that you cannot poop in a litter box with long hair.  Frodo...no problem: short hair.  Plus, he's the ring-bearer (I will use that excuse often).  But Dragon, despite her best efforts (which is essentially no effort) cannot poop in the litter box.  There are only two possible outcomes for Dragon: 1) Poops in litter box, exits box, and runs around the apartment as though possessed by demons of the underworld upon realizing that poop is still attached to her butt.  This is followed by the infamous butt drag, because what is the best solution when a turd is attached to your butt?  Yup, you guessed it: run around the apartment and drag your butt across the floor, which not only leaves lovely brown skid marks but will successfully flatten the poop onto your butt so that the only method of removal is a very unpleasant twenty minutes in the bathroom with scissors.  Frodo (ring-bearer) scratches the outside of the bathroom door and continues to mew for Dragon while she is tortured (shaved) by Orcs (me or my husband).  2) Dragon gets in litter box, turns around several times, and poops just outside of box.  This is followed by an intense "sweeping" session, which is when Dragon uses one of her front paws to sweep litter in several directions while the poop lay undisturbed and uncovered.  Frodo (ring-bearer), as you might've already guessed, poops in litter box, covers entire turd with litter, and leaves box, ring in paw and ready to roll.  But back to Dragon...
Sometimes, when you leave the litter box, the world looks different.  For Dragon, this is nearly always the case.  Upon these occasions of confusion, she reverts to her alter-ego: "Mrs. Crab Legs".  Mrs. Crab Legs is a flighty woman who spooks at the slightest rustle of wind, the tiniest creak of the floor, and the most ordinary movements of the Orcs and ring-bearer.  She might look at you with an expression of terror, as if she's never seen you before this very moment, as if her time in the litter box erased her memory entirely.  She begins to scuttle her way across the floor, but as she's never seen you before, she must remain focused, and can't risk taking her eyes off of you (you're an Orc after all).   Her eyes bore into your very soul, but her legs continue across the floor, crossing in front of each other like a ghost crab upon the sand.  This is about the time when I like to have an unannounced foot spasm.  Mrs. Crab Legs, flighty as she is, leaps into the air with a supernatural movement that seems to begin from her tail and end at her head, as though being pulled up by an invisible string (the Orcs always have a good laugh when this phenomenon occurs).