How a woman copes with staying at home all day with a big dog and four weird cats. Enjoy:)
Here goes! So this is an excerpt of a part of the madness my mind goes through in a single day at home.
I love animals. They drive me crazy though. Everyone looks forward to cleaning the litter box every day, don't they? Well, it's the highlight of my day. Now I try to do it every day because of an episode I had late one evening after retiring to bed. Oh here we go, you are certainly thinking!
So, this day was like any other. Get up, have coffee, get my hunny to work and do errands before returning home 10 minutes later. I do the dishes, get the laundry started and work on tidying up the dog bones. This is important because if you forget just one while in sock feet while running around could result in a trip, then another trip to the ER. Toes are a very integral part of my body, so I tend to protect them.
I get all this awesome housework done. Even the garbage and recycling were put outside. That's great right? Yes, it is. There was something that I should have done before the end of that very long day. It never occurred to me during all those trips up and down stairs. Even went to that area of the house to do the laundry. I guess I thought it could wait until the next day. Let me tell you something about animals. They do not have a sense of personal space unless it's their own. They do not care where they sit, step or lay as long as they want to do it. They do this all day long, all over the house wherever their stupid little feet carry them! So, that one very important thing was neglected and I paid for it.
My sweetheart was done work, and I picked him up and we went home to enjoy quiet time and a meal before bedtime. All is well. I am happy, he is contented, the animals are blissfully somewhere else.
So, lights get turned off, puppy has his nightly business taken care of and off we go to bed. AHEM.
My darling starts snoring after a gentle back rub. I turn over to go to sleep and do the thing I always do. I reach for my pillow and fluff it up so that I get maximum plushness for my tired head to rest on. I felt something that didn't feel nice or dry. It was not supposed to feel that way. Honestly, I was not expecting to feel something squishy on my pillow before nodding off. IT WAS POOP. Cat POOP. Yup. GROSS!
So I rip the offending pillow and blanket off and start to yell, then cry. My sleep is ruined so no one gets to sleep! The problem with finding something like this is that you can't just ignore it and go back to sleep. Now your brain is wide awake thinking a million thoughts at once. The first thought was, Which cat was it from? There are 4 cats multiplied by 4 legs each. That's 16 legs to check. By process of elimination (pun intended), I narrowed it down to my original cat who always snuggles me at night. Sure enough, she had the offending mess on her back leg. It was somewhat dried out. Leading me to the conclusion that this has been there longer than a day. I am disgusted. Cats are pretty clean animals. Crap can happen at any time. You have to take each emergency as it happens. That's life in the fast lane.
The next phase was a bit more noisy and a lot more painful in both sound and activity. I rounded up the cat, marched down the hall and turned on the water. This is never a good combination: A CAT and WATER. She is yelling bloody murder and I have a death grip on her four legs. Yes, all of them all in two hands! I have to hang onto her, and 3 of those feet while simultaneously washing the offending food of poop-debris. It occurs to me to grab her by the neck scruff and paralyze her actions. Little did I know, this also stops them from mearrrowing like they are being slaughtered for at least 2 minutes of peace.
Foot is cleaned, cat is dried off. I am covered in white, fluffy fur and have a few scratches and a growing itchy sensation across my arms. As much as I love animals, they cause allergic reactions. I am more allergic to poop in my bed though. That's just wrong. Wash my hands, take a half dozen deep cleansing breaths and leave the bathroom in shambles. It was a bloodbath in there!
I get the bed remade, new pillow case, blanket rearranged and get back into bed and conk out, too tired to care about anything. My sweetheart wakes up to hell breaking loose and wondering who's trying to murder the cat when it was serene and quiet when he went to sleep. I almost wanted to put the poop on his pillow for sensitivity training. That would start a whole different kind of war...and don't forget that there's more poop where that came from. Oh my goodness! Moral of the story. Always take care of the little things or they find their way back to you. The little things are important too in their own way. Can I get an amen?