Poacher

I heard a fascinating report recently on the problem of poaching sturgeon in Russia and how authorities are fighting a losing battle since the caviar these quite ugly fish provide is worth more than its weight in gold.  I was riveted by the discussion as I, too, have a poaching problem and as head of the domestic government am in search of an effective solution that will put an end to it.  The poacher: Hank.  The poached: cat litter box (yyyuuukkkkk....)  As a child I did not have cats but I remember that the neighborhood felines liked to make deposits in my backyard sandbox and the family hound Daisy the dachshund frequently feasted from this smorgasbord.  Our veterinarian at the time suggested that we were being overly anxious and controlling and that we should embrace Daisy's culinary wanderings and enhance her backyard buffet via the application of some Tabasco sauce to the cat poop.  Daisy did not appreciate our epicurian contribution and never returned to the feces feast again.  But Daisy was only 15-20 pounds (give or give 5 pounds - no, that's not a typo, dachshund owners will understand...)  If I Tabascoed Hank and he reacted the way Daisy did our water bill would be 200 dollars - surely there is a cheaper solution?  But let's look on the positive side.  With the Christmas season fast approaching perhaps the clinging gray clay litter whiskers Hank sports after a dump dive can be interpreted as an ode to Santa Claus.  I guess this is one of those problems that deserves a New Year's resolution.