I am working on sewing the bridesmaids' dresses for our wedding in November. Its not going so well because you have to get certian points exactly spot on or they get weird folds.
But it's okay. The Seamstress Brigade is helping me out.
Regretfully, they're not the best tailors around... they kind of just spew cat hair everywhere and sit on things. Maybe I need to look around for some new helpers.
You have ever cut a trip short because your pet might be lonely.
You have decided against a trip because your pet wasn't welcome.
You go to daycare and playdates but have no children
It takes at least two sticky roller sheets to get the hair off of your clothes. And there's still hair you can't get out.
You know what a sticky roller is.
You have found pet hair strange places like your trunk, the pockets of your clothes, or on your underwear.
You sit on the edge of chairs because there's already somebody else sitting there.
You don't move the "somebody else".
You recount stories of the time your pet had the hiccups.
You find stories of other people's hiccuping pets humorous.
There are treats or cookies in your house that aren't for human consumption.
You have ever bought a Christmas/Hanukkah/birthday present for your pet.
Your cellphone's camera is mainly used to photograph your pet.
Your response to an "accident" on the carpet is no longer "Eww!" but "Ugh. Not again."
Not that I would know ANY of this from personal experience....
So I thought I should do a little follow up on the other day's post.
Kelly is really into bubble wrap for some reason.... I mean REALLY into it. To the point where I have to hide it now because he knows what it is.
I'm not sure what he's doing when he's biting at it. I'm assuming he's actually trying to pop the bubbles but that'd be kind of weird since he is a cat, but I guess you never know. He gets really agressively into it. He jumps around and chompity chomps all of the bubbles.
I don't really care that he's doing this, but I'm not certian that he's not eating the little bits of plastic he's biting off. If it were just a couple of pieces I wouldn't be worried, it's indigestable and it'll just pass through eventually, but I think he has probably eaten a good couple of ounces of plastic at this point.
Because of this behaviour we currently have a sheet of bubble wrap on top of the fridge, one hidden in a closet and one sitting on top of a coat rack.
I also had to hide a box the other day because there was bubble wrap INSIDE of it and Kelly was busily attempting to get the box open so he could eat it. I know that's what he was attempting to do because the box was filled with newly washed dishes and the box itself had been out of the floor the other day and he didn't even pay attention to it.
And for those of you who are going to start pointing fingers and claiming I'm a bad cat-mother and Kelly's doing this because I don't feed him, you have to stop listening to Jame-o. He LIES. A LOT. They have never been without food for more than 12 hours and yet Jame-o starts flipping out whenever the dish isn't completely full. So, no, Kelly is NOT starving and he has no reason to be munching on all this plastic.
He also has no reason to be munching on tin foil which is apparently what he did after I hid all of the bubble wrap. I had a folded up square of tin foil in the living room (there is a reason for this and it's not that I'm storing it in there) and when AV and I came back from dinner the living room was strewn with little bits of silver foil.
Thanks, cat, thanks a lot.
So now I have to make sure all bubble wrap is hidden as well as any tin foil. Maybe I should just get a really giant plastic hampster ball so Kelly can run around and not get himself into so much trouble... But then again he might just try to eat it. Or possibly just shread it.
We received a belated bridal shower gift from AV's parents the other day (only the best bowl/plates ever!). Because the box held dishes, it was also filled with bubble wrap. While we were trying to work on organizing the dining room, we tossed the bubble wrap on the floor as we cleaned.
I left the room for a while to make dinner and when I came back I noticed something AWESOME. Ned Kelly was busily popping bubbles! He was climbing in, on, and around the sheet of bubble wrap biting the bubbles!
The best part about this was the fact that he was PURRING the entire time. Loudly.
Misters Kelly, Jones, and James have succumbed to the bubble wrap effect
After I stopped filming, Skippy got in on the action and proceeded to pounce at the bubble wrap and viciously chomp on it.
AV and I had to take Dannie and Skippyjon to the vet on Monday. Last time Dannie had to go to the vet I had to take him all by myself. It was awful.
We had just adopted him and had no real idea about his background. We didn't notice until after we got him home that he is a "munchkin", which is actually a genetic mutation which makes his legs shorter than a normal cat. This also means that he is predisposed to hip and joint problems. Not only did I find this out, I also found out that the vet was afraid that our new buddy might have been exposed to feline leukemia* AND that he was actually an older cat than we were led to believe.
Obviously all of this was very hard for me to take all by myself. This, coupled with the fact that our little sweetheart became a hissing, spitting beast who had to be muzzled for the vet's safety, meant that I absolutely did NOT want to have to go to the vet with him alone again.
AV was running late at work so I got out the cat carriers. Skippy has a cool trick, his only trick really. When you get out his carrier and tap on the top he hops right in. Daniel however, does not have this particular cool trick.
Sitting on Skippy's head.
I got out the second crate. He wouldn't get in. I pushed his butt. He wouldn't get in. I put some cat treats in there. He wouldn't get in. Fine then. Last time I took Kelly and Jess to the vet, neither one of them would get in their crates so they just both just wore their harnesses. Same treatment for Daniel.
When AV got home, we hopped in the car and were treated to THIS for the entire ride.
You can't hear it, but Dannie is actually causing Skipp to cry too. He's in his crate in the back making little sad baby noises.
We got to the vet and Skipp was checked out first. He did the normal "OMG I DON'T WANT TO COME OUT OF MY HOUSE" game, but AV and the vet took the crate apart. Quick, easy.
Now on to Dannie. The entire time I had been holding him. I tried to put him on the exam table when we got there but he started growling so I picked him back up again. I sat down with him in my lap and when it was his turn he growled at me as I managed to lift him up and get him to the table.
His feet touched the table and the gloves came off.
He became a wild, vicious beast. He growled, hissed, kicked and tried to bite. The vet put his towel over his head and called in the vet tech. Together they struggled to hold him to give him his shots. His back end was sticking out of the towel and he was spinning about like a whirling dervish.
"He doesn't still have claws, does he?" the vet tech asked at one point.
"Oh... he has all of them still... So you might want to watch out..." I responded.
Good luck, ladies.
They finally got all of the shots into his furry rear end and he continued to growl and yowl under the blanket. When it was time to leave, I tried to scoop him up again. He was growling again.
Back in the car, he acted like everything was normal and he had never made a scene in his life.
He seemed fairly normal all afternoon and evening, but he spent all of Tuesday like this:
So tired.
Becoming a vicious beast really takes it out of a guy.
The worst part is that we have to go back again in a month because he still needs to get part two of a set of shots. Jess and Kelly have to go then too to get leukemia shots. So that'll be fun....
Daniel Boone is a good little buddy* but he has one super weird habit. He appears to be slightly obsessive compulsive when it comes to being held.
Unlike Jame-o, Dannie CANNOT be held like a baby. If he even starts to think that you're going to turn him upside down he starts getting upset. But the real weirdness comes when you pick him up to hold him. He likes to be held where he can put his front feet on your shoulder. Your LEFT shoulder. If you pick him up pointing to the right, he will push off of you, turn around, and snuggle up to the left side.
I think he might have some localized hip or back problems on the one side so he gets pinched or something when you hold him "wrong".
Or possibly he's just a little OCD kitty.
I'll probably never know since he doesn't speak English and I have yet to figure out what "MRAH!" means.
Cheers,
Red
*except for when he is peeing on the floor, at which point he is an a**hole
Today I mopped the basement. It's awful down there, especially after all the work we've been doing. It's just dusty and there are dirty footprints everywhere. So I scrubbed, scrubbed, scrubbed. Of course I didn't do this alone.
Kelly is BIG on helping.
He likes to help in the bathroom: "What are you doing on that seat? Is there something IN there? CAN I SEE??"
He likes to help in the kitchen: "What are you doing up there? Can I touch that??"
He likes to help in the bedroom: "Are you asleep? Are you awake now? What are you doing in there? Can I sit there? Play with me?"
He likes to help in the office: "What are you looking at? Can I sit up there? Can I touch that? Can I do what you're doing? Play with me?"
But mostly, Kelly likes to help mop the floors. He likes to chase the mop back and forth and jump on it. But of course it's wet and when he touches it he freaks out and runs and hides. After nursing his "wounds" he likes to come back and watch some more.
Kelly's FAVORITE thing to do is lay on the wet floors after they've been mopped. I HATE that he does this. Not only does it screw up the clean floor, but it also gets cleaning products all over him. I use Lysol or Fabuloso, it's diluted in the water but that doesn't mean that little children should be in it. The problem is in the fact that he has to clean himself after he sprawls out in the dampness. This always makes me nervous because I don't want him to get sick from the chemicals.
If I try to get him out of the way he hides where I can't get him. If I CAN manage to get him out of where I'm working, he sneaks back in when the floor is ALMOST dry.... but not quite.
He's really not as helpful as he likes to think he is.
Cinderella Kitty is the first to wake every morning. He has many, many chores to do. When the sun begins to rise, he slowly opens his eyes and gets ready for his day.
Cinderella Kitty rises with the sun.
First, Cinderella Kitty heads into the bathroom. His ugly brothers are very dirty and he has to scrub and scrub and scrub the tub. Even though Cinderella Kitty has worked very hard, when his brothers see the newly cleaned bathroom, they tell him it is not good enough! So, Cinderella Kitty sighs and gets back to work while his brothers watch him and make sure he does the job to their liking.
Cinderella Kitty's brothers watch him work.
After cleaning the bathroom, Cinderella Kitty wakes up his Uncle and begins his work on laundering the linens. Cinderella Kitty's Uncle is very particular and likes to inspect all of Cinderella Kitty's work. The sheets must be done just-so or Cinderella Kitty must re-do them.
Cinderella Kitty's Uncle inspects the laundry
Next, Cinderella Kitty starts working on making lunch for his brothers and uncle. He makes a delicious meat pizza and watches as everyone eats.
Cinderella Kitty watches as everyone eats the delicious food he has made.
Cinderella Kitty is not allowed to eat with his brothers and uncle. He eats alone after everyone else is done. They have eaten all of the pizza so Cinderella Kitty makes himself some toast and reads a magazine.
Cinderella Kitty reads a magazine as he eats alone.
After lunch, Cinderella Kitty vacuums and mops the floors. He rolls around on the damp ground just for good measure. As the day is nearing a close, Cinderella Kitty makes a few final checks around the house. He needs to make sure that everything is clean and in order for the next day. He knows his family does not like it when things are out of place.
Cinderella Kitty inspects the house at the end of the day.
The day is finally over for Cinderella Kitty. With everything in its rightful place and his family tucked into their beds, Cinderella Kitty can finally rest. He first takes a quick bath. It is very relaxing after all of the work he has done today.
Cinderella Kitty relaxes with a bath.
Clean and tired, Cinderella Kitty climbs up to his small room and curls up for sleep. He knows he must sleep well, for tomorrow will only bring more work for him.
On Tuesday night, at 4:30am, or I suppose that would be Wednesday morning, I was awaken from a solid slumber by a chirping noise followed by a thumping. Obviously chirping/thumping noises are not exactly top of the "Common Nighttime Noises in My Bedroom" list so I was rather confused and completely terrified.
Like the crybaby I am, I woke up AV. We continued to listen to the chirping and thumping for a moment then both came to the sudden realization of "THAT'S A BAT". The chirping was the little guy's frightened crying and the thumping was Ned Kelly attempting to jump up, catch, and eat said little guy.
"Turn on the lights!" I requested and AV complied. The suddenly bright room was strangely quiet and bat free. I looked over the side of the bed to see Kelly staring back at my with pupils bigger than my head. He was in "Nighttime Hunter" mode and it was terrifying. AV came back to bed and pulled the covers up to his neck as I got out.
We had determined that the bat was in the curtains* and as Kelly snuffled around on the floor looking for it I tried to figure out how to flush a flying mammal out of the curtains without getting a bat in the face. As I stared at the curtains trying to locate the animal I noticed a small black triangle sticking off the top of the curtains (we have those kind of curtains that have a ruffle along the top, above the curtain rod). I stood on top of the bed for a better view and noticed the black triangle had a skinny toe attached to it.
Then it moved. Bat located.
I got down from the bed and turned to AV. "What do I do??" I asked. He shrugged, "I donno", he responded as he snuggled deeper into the bed and pulled the blankets up to his neck.
I had been trying desperately to determine how to catch the bat ever since we had identified the initial noise. I knew there was a small butterfly net in the ceiling of the basement, but the image of myself dashing around the room flailing a child's toy around after a terrified flying animal quickly made that particular course of action significantly less attractive.
"What do I do??" I asked AV again. Same response before. "I donno" and more snuggling. My hero....
I finally decided to capture the bat in a shoebox I'd been using as a garbage can. I dumped out the contents and slunk towards the curtains. I stopped when I realized I was much too short and wouldn't be able to scoop the bat into the box without being able to see it. "I'm not tall enough, I can't see it!" I called out to AV. "What do I do?" He just stared at me. I'm not sure why I bothered asking anymore.
I dashed into the office (its upstairs as well) and dumped out a plastic milk crate we were using for storage. I brought it back into the bedroom and climbed up.
As I listened to my heartbeat thundering in my head, I pulled down the edge of the curtain ruffle. I inched closer and closer to the little black triangle still sticking out of the top of the curtains. I finally folded the last bit of curtain down to reveal a little brown bat clinging desperately to the back side. I slid the box around him and pulled him off the curtains. A few little thumps were heard from the inside of the shoebox, but then it went quiet.
I turned back to AV, he was still snuggled in bed, ready to pull the covers over his head to deflect any wayward bats.
"Bat in a box!"** I croaked, my voice high and squeaky, full of terrified adrenaline.
I started to scamper downstairs with my bat-filled shoebox. It wasn't until I was halfway down the stairs that I realized: I'm in my underwear; I have to go outside now.
Cheers,
Red
PS. Stay tuned for AV's "Bat(wo)man Rebuttal". Apparently there's another side to this story...
*We heard the chirping noise coming from the curtains after we turned the lights on. As it turns out, locating the bat was actually just a lucky guess as the "chirping" in the curtain was really a sound coming from the air conditioning unit in the window.
As gorgeous as our lovely kitties are, sometimes... they're not.
We'll be featuring a "Fantastic Ugtastic" photo post featuring our beautiful boys in abnormally ugly poses. Sadly, these photos will not be retouched, edited, or posed in anyway....
Keep reading to see our buddies in all their natural hideous glory!
Baby Kelly: Gremlin piglet edition
Baby Jess: Poop on it! Technically he was jumping from one chair arm to another, but the photo is pretty ugly...
Young Skip: The creepy old Chinese man
Stay tuned for furure "Fantastic Ugtastic" posts! Get excited, we have some really ugly sleepers in our house!
I received a gift the other day. A gift in the form of a small, convulsing mouse carcass. Which, of course, as a good mama-kitty I had to "eat". Yumm...
I was having a boring/indecisive day yesterday. I looked at my credit card statement for this month. We bought some furniture so my statement is twice, almost three times, the size it normally is and that makes me nervous. So I determined that this is not a good month for me to go and pick up random stuff from the fabric store (cue sad face). That decided, my main plan of the day (running errands) was out of the picture and I had nothing to do.
I did some house chores and sat down on the couch in the living room to read a book. Kelly came to visit me a couple of times, hopping into my lap, shedding, and drooling happily all over the couch. Having fulfilled his "touch me now" quota of the day, he left the couch and sprawled across the floor.
I was absorbed in my book when I heard a small chirp/click/mew noise. When I looked at Kelly, he was staring sleepily across the living room. I folded down the footrest on the couch to see... Daniel.
He was standing in the middle of the room with something in his mouth. A toy, but not one I had seen before. No, not a toy, a frog? How did a frog get in my house? Wait... Frogs don't have tails....
As I started to stand, he dropped the thing in his mouth onto the floor. I realized the "in his mouth thing" was not a toy or a frog but a probably traumatized, definitely injured, probably dead field mouse.
Like the good cat mother I am, I cooed and thanked Daniel for his lovely gift, all the while screaming
"OMG EWEWEWEWEW" in my head. I scurried to the laundry room in search of a paper towel to clean up the used-to-be mouse. I moved as fast as I could since I wasn't sure if the mouse was or was not going to reincarnate itself in the middle of my living room and take up residence within my couch cushions.
I removed the thing from the carpet and, still cooing thanks to Daniel, I took it out to the trash. When I came back inside both Kelly and Daniel were intently studying a small area of carpet. Of course this made me slightly nervous, but since I couldn't see anything there I slowly went back to reading my book.
Our darling Daniel apparently has some secret skills.
I don't normally wake up when AV gets up to go to work, but I did this morning. I think he was making more noise than usual.
This is most likely the case as he woke up to find that Daniel had PEED on his pillow which had fallen on the floor.
WTF.
I JUST cleaned out the kitty litter last night. There's nothing abnormal going on to freak him out. Did he get pissed about the cat pee on the library book?
I got a book from the library the other day. It seemed to have coffee spilled on the corner. No big deal, just some wrinkling and discolored pages.
I had the book sitting on the end table from earlier this afternoon when I brought it in from the car. A little while ago, Daniel became strangely interested in the coffee table. And, since Daniel is the "pee-er", it makes me veeeery nervous when he gets interested in stuff.
I moved him a couple of times, but he kept coming back. He actually hissed and bit AV when he tried to put him on the floor. Finally, I figured out that there was something up with the books on the table. So I moved the top book. He was still acting weird. Something occured to me... I opened the book and smelled it.
It wasn't coffee that was "spilled" on the book. It was cat pee.
Somebody's cat* had taken a leak on the corner of the book. Daniel smelled the unfamiliar pee and started wigging out.
So, like the good cat-mother I am, I took all the library books (pee-book included) and put them in my car. Then I Lysol-ed the end table and the bookshelf where I had put the book before taking it outside.
The LAST thing I need is the cat to pee all over a stack of library books, EVEN THOUGH some OTHER cat had ALREADY done it.
Like I had to tell the kindergarteners, "even if somebody else did it to you first, you're still going to get in trouble if you do it back to them".
This is an important question as I watch Jame-o dance and coo in the living room as he attempts to murder a pony bead.
AV's mom gave the catlings an Easter basket filled with little plastic eggs. Each of the eggs either had a couple of beads in them or a little furry mouse. Since April, we have effectively lost all six of the little mice somewhere into the netherworlds of Under-The-Couch-Land and/or Behind-The-Kitchen-Appliances-Ville. Somehow all of the pony beads have escaped this particular fate and are seen, from time to time, lounging in the shag carpeting lying in wait of bare feet to impale.
Over the last few days, Jess has decided these pony beads are worthy adversaries and has spent the last half hour of every evening tormenting them. This is not necessarily the part that worries me. The part that worries me is when I hear the bead clicking against his little pointy cat teeth as he sits on his furry butt and chomps at them. Apparently just chewing at them isn't good enough, and he has to also sway back and forth and/or jump up and down as he munches.
I'm terrified he's somehow going inhale one of those little buggers.... And then what? Cats can choke can't they? How do you even get something out of their tiny little windpipes? Can you heimlich them? CPR? Its not like I have a little kitty AED set up anywhere. Although I suppose he would probably just hack a bit then barf on my carpet.
Scene set in generic kitchen. Frustrated woman stands at center, swatting at flying insects Announcer: Do you have an insect problem? Are you still using a dirty old fly-swatter? Those are covered in germs! Yuck! Woman throws down fly-swatter
Announcer: What you need is a brand new CatSwatter! Box appears on floor at woman's feet CatSwatter is a hands-free insect destroying machine! Just open the box and away it goes! Woman opens box, cat emerges No assembly required! No more chasing insects around your house, CatSwatter does it for you! Cut to cat chasing insects No more messy bug splatters, CatSwatter cleans up after itself! Cut to cat chewing then cleaning face
Scene returns to generic kitchen. Happy family stands with cat sitting on counter top Announcer: 100% effective!
Family: Thanks CatSwatter!
Announcer:Reads quickly as text scrolls across screen. Extensive additional maintenance and long term care required. All directions must be followed. CatSwatter INC not responsible for additional costs associated with product. Not all CatSwatters will behave identically. Effectiveness not guaranteed.
I don't really have a post tonight... I just wanted to say it's super creepy sitting here in the middle of the night with Kelly under the table apparently eating a bug..?
He's under my chair clearly making little chomping noises. There's nothing on the floor and he was in wild beast mode a few minutes ago, so my (very powerful) skills of deduction tell me he has caught something and eaten it. I guess it was fighting for its life inside his little kitty mouth because it took an awful long time for him to chomp it up.
It must have been one of those elusive "invisi-bugs" though, because I most certainly have not seen any insects in here for quite some time.
There Are No Cookies in My House: A Ghost Story, or Cat Pee Under the SinkBased on a true story
Little Red stretched in her bed in her little blue house on the top of the hill. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was a lovely morning, made even more lovely by the memories spinning around in Little Red's head. She had just gotten back from a weekend trip to The Big City. She had a wonderful time there; shopping at fancy stores, dressing up in lovely clothes, and eating at all her favorite restaurants. But of course, every trip had an end, and although Little Red wasn't quite ready to come home, she knew her cats would need her.
Little Red patted the cats' heads as they sprawled around her on the bed. Today, she thought, I am going to make cookies to celebrate being back home! She popped into the kitchen, and to her dismay remembered that the butter was all but frozen solid. Little Red knew her cookies wouldn't be very delicious if she tried to make them with frozen butter, so, with a sigh, she placed the hard sticks of butter on the counter and sat down to read a book.
After lunch, Little Red prepared the kitchen for her cookie making. She was excited, she hadn't made cookies in what seemed like forever. She loved making cookies almost as much as she loved eating cookies. Little Red bent down near the sink and smelled a terrible smell. She froze. No, she must have been mistaken! That terrible smell couldn't be THE terrible smell! In horror, she bent down again. NO! It was! It was THE terrible smell! The terrible smell of cat pee!
In a frenzy, Little Red threw open the cabinet doors below the sink and stuck her head inside the dark cavern below. NO NO NO!! The smell was stronger here! Hastily, Little Red emptied the cabinet below the sink, the crock-pot, coffee maker, popcorn popper, and the brown paper bags were strewn across the kitchen floor. Little Red stared at them in horror and brought them, one by one, to her nose.
NO! NO! NO! NO! Tears sprang to Little Red's eyes, she didn't know if it was anger, sadness, or just the burning aroma wafting from the cabinet below the sink. The paper bags and a cardboard box were all but mush, warped and damp.
Little Red flew to the laundry room and returned with arm fulls of cleaning products. She filled both of her kitchen sinks and a bucket. Lysol, bleach, and dish soap were squirted with abandon. After scrubbing out the cabinet under the sink, everything else was thrown into bleachy water. Little Red scrubbed and fretted, yelling obscenities; the cats hid in the living room.
Panting, Little Red tossed the last bleach soaked bottle cap onto a towel on the counter to dry. She did not know what else might be coated in a sticky layer of cat pee. The anxiety gripped her tightly and her eyes went wild. Without pause she began tossing other things into the cleaning solutions. She began spraying bleach and Lysol upon everything in her path. She began to cackle crazily as the fumes mixed and sent her head spinning, yet she did not stop. "I must clean the pee! It could be anywhere!" Little Red shouted insanely.She continued through the house, overturning furniture and dumping cleaning products anywhere she could reach.
The next morning, the police found her body. She lie flat on the kitchen floor, her eyes rolled back in her head, and white froth pooled in her mouth. Dead as a doornail. The cats were nowhere to be seen, but a window had been broken and bits of short hair clung to the shattered glass.
To this day, people say they can hear a voice carried on the wind from the top of the hill. "Noooooo," it seems to call, "there's peeeeee everywhere".
For the last couple of weeks I've had a little soup can on my desk. I have been storing some practice flowers for the wedding in it. They're made of Crayola Model Magic so they feel really funny... like weird foam. I had about ten of them im my little can, about six inches tall with an inch wide flower. I want o use them as the bouquets and boutinnieres, so I probably need at least a hundred.
They're supposed to look like frangipanis. I need to work on the ends of the petals... They need to be pointier or something..?
Well... now I have six.
I have six of them because SOMEBODY ATE four of them... ATE THEM!!!
I noticed Kelly (two year old, white and tan cat) up on my desk the other day. He was busy nosing around in the can of flowers. He then proceeded to pull one of the flowers out and shred it. By the time I got to him he had completely destroyed it. I shooed him away but didn't move the can (WTF so stupid of me!). Later he apparently came back and destroyed an additional flower.
I finally put the can into the closet so he couldn't get to it. When I took it out again today I notice TWO more of the flowers were ruined. One is missing a petal and the other is full of fang holes.
Grr I am so angry! They're not allowed on the desks to begin with, but I suppose it is my fault for having things sitting there. But really... wth. Angry! Angry!
Now I am all kinds of paranoid about ALL of my things... Particularly anything wedding related since I think Kelly is going to nom on some more of it, or possibly tell everybody else about how delicious inedible things are.
Y u blame me? Me so adorable! Me no eat your things!
For some time now AV and I have had a slight... peeing problem. One of the buddies is peeing in our house and not in his box. And we're not talking small pees. We're talking huge I-haven't-gone-all-day kind of pees. Whoever it is tends to pee in two places: on/in piles of laundry and in their toy box. On the one hand, peeing on laundry piles isn't all that tough to deal with. Toss it in the wash with hot water and detergent and it's taken care of. On the other hand, OMG EW EW EW THERE'S PEE ON MY CLOTHES.
Peeing in the toy box (it has happened twice) is ridiculously obnoxious. We have a little cardboard box in the corner of the living room on the floor behind their cat-tree. Whenever I clean I put all their little toys in it so we don't totally look like crazy cat ladies. Jame-o also likes to dig around in it and find things to play with. Win-win. Then somebody started peeing in it.... And since we're peeing in the toy box, we're also peeing on all of our toys. That we carry around in our mouths. I totally fail to see how this is a good plan at all. So now I have a bag of pee flavored toys in the garage that I need to wash somehow.
We've been assuming it was Dannie since the problems started close to when he brought him home and our other buddies were around for a year and we only had one instance of going outside the box. And I don't even count that time... (I got Kelly and Jame-o in the summer of 2009 when I was at home in Cinci. They were staying in a little crate in the sewing room with a little bed and litterbox. Kelly was still itty bitty and playing crazily downstairs. Suddenly he dashes up the stairs like his pants are on fire. A minute later he prances back down again. When I went upstairs to see what he was doing, I saw a little poo-pile in the corner of the crate... where the litter box would have been if I hadn't just taken it out to clean.)
Well, the assumptions have, sadly, proven correct. I just caught Daniel Boone taking an enormous pee on the pants I was wearing to mow the lawn the other day. They were on the floor in the bathroom and when I was turning to dry my hands I noticed SOMEBODY squatting on them. Thanks, Dannie That's just awesome.
This also means that the pee puddle/lake Dad found in his shoe last weekend is also a gift from our dear Daniel. Yes, he peed in a shoe. Not ON it, IN it. AV and I haven't had this particular problem yet, but I'm sure there's still time since Dannie's only like six years old or so. So even if I can manage to leave my house and not totally look like a cat-lady I might still end up smelling like one.
