After she recovered from the indignity of jumping into "her litter box" and finding it shallowly filled with water, I tried coaxing her into the bathroom, where the litter box is kept. Then I placed her in the litter box. She gave me a very indignant look, stood on her tippy-toes utterly disgusted, jumped and ran.
I gave her a little more time to dry herself off and relax. Then I tried again to get her to the box and into the box. She gave me the same indignant look, but this time she must have remembered she needed to go to the bathroom. She did her business and launched herself out of the box and past me in one leap.
Mike, my other half, is completely distressed by this whole ordeal. Anything that causes them discomfort really nerves him up. After one dunk in the tub, he is ready to drain it and just pretend like the pooping in the bathtub really isn't happening. It feels like I am training two individuals....sigh.