I have also come to accept the fact that if Andy and I dare to go out in the evening, we will be greeted at the garage door by a strongly disapproving kitty--complete with twitching tail and usually lots of complaining meows. Theo also has such strong associations between things that after the kitty physical therapist tried using a little bell for aversion therapy to get him to use his bad leg more, I have to remove the bell from all new collars, or else he runs around the house in terror. After they brushed him each time he finished the kitty hydrotherapy, he is afraid of being brushed and I can only do it while he's sleeping. I can live with all of that.
What I really wish we could get past is Theo's certainty that I need to know when he uses the litterbox.
When he first came home from the hospital, I had to saran-wrap his cast and hold him up in the litter box so he could use it, and then later had to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't developing a bladder infection or kitty constipation for a second time, so I really did pay a lot of attention to his litter box habits--I admit. Unfortunately, Theo is an unusual animal with very strong associations, so if I do something once or twice, he automatically assumes it will continue indefinitely. So here we are--two years later--and during the winter months when it's too cold for the cats to use the garden as humongous outdoor litter boxes, Theo thinks he needs to tell me every time he's about to use the litter box. Every. Single. Time.
You just can't buy closeness like that.