The guys from Lowe’s came to deliver our dryer yesterday before 9, and when they went to hook it up, discovered that the exhaust hose extension THINGY wasn’t long enough. They couldn’t hook up the hose because it wouldn’t reach to the other side of the vent hole in the wall, which meant that lint would blow up into the wall causing a fire hazard. So they plugged it in and left it for Fred to deal with.
Luckily, it was perfect clothes-drying weather, so I was able to do the rest of Fred’s laundry and hang it out to dry. I even got it folded and put away before he got home.
I got a lot of little things done around the house yesterday, which was nice. I’ve been wanting to scrub the bottom of the screen door – the door leading out to the back yard, which has a cat door built into it. I think we’ve had that thing for a couple of years now, and I’ve never cleaned it. It was nas-tay, but only took about ten minutes of work with the Magic Eraser sponge and some cleaning rags, and now it’s all set for another couple of years!
Regarding the peeing on my bed that I mentioned yesterday? I was maybe not clear when I said that it rarely happens. What I meant to say is that it rarely happens that someone pees ON MY BED. There’s plenty of cat pee in OTHER places, but it’s been a while since anyone peed on my damn bed.
These days, one of my morning chores, along with scooping the litter box and giving Emmy and Spanky their morning snacks, is to go around the house with a flashlight, a bottle of Nose Offense, and a few cleaning rags, checking all the usual spots and cleaning up any cat pee that I find. It’s a rare day when I don’t find some. I look at pictures I posted from back when we lived in Madison – and had far fewer cats than we have now – and I think “Seriously, I dared to put books on the bottom shelf of the bookcases?!” I don’t dare to now, because they’ll get sprayed. I don’t dare to leave laundry on the floor, because it’ll get peed on. Fred’s couch is covered in an old comforter to protect it from being peed on, and my couch has those waterproof-bottomed bed pads on it for the same reason.
(I’m using “spray” and “pee” interchangeably here because sometimes I find a small spray, and sometimes I find a full pee. The cats have been to the fucking vet, every last one of them, and they’re all in tip top health. They’re just assholes.)
I honestly don’t know when the cat pee problem really started – I know that we had a few issues with Mister Boogers (I believe he sent Nance home with a peed-upon sweatshirt because as much as I loved that cat, he was a fucking douchebag sometimes), but I think it really ramped up after we brought Joe Bob home. Joe Bob, sweet and wonderful as he is, will spray right in front of me. I’ve seen Tommy do it, Elwood’s done it, even my dear sweet Spanky has been seen doing it. At this point, Miz Poo is the only cat I can somewhat confidently say only pees in the litter box. I don’t think Alice, Kara, Stinkerbelle, or Corbie do it, but if Fred told me they did, I wouldn’t be all that surprised.
Did you know that female cats can spray? Indeed they can. I’ve seen Maxi do it right in front of me. ON THE SIDE OF MY DESK.
Goddamn, I hate cats sometimes.
So all of this is to set y’all straight. We see plenty of cat pee around here. PLENTY. We’re awash in cat pee. Thank god for Nose Offense and on the rare occasion that doesn’t take care of the problem, I mix up a spray bottle of 16 oz. hydrogen peroxide, 1 T baking soda, and 1 tsp dishwashing liquid, and go to town with that.
This cat pee issue, by the way, is why I am NOT KIDDING when I say that we’re not adopting any more cats. I would honestly like to go back down to 5 cats. I’m not talking about wanting to get rid of any of our cats of course. But as they go peeing off this mortal coil, we won’t adopt more to replace them. Miz Poo and Spanky are the oldest, and Tommy, Sugarbutt, and Joe Bob are the next oldest at almost 7 years old. As long as no one develops some horrible disease (oh please, let no one develop some horrible disease please, please), I think we’re going to be a house of way more than 5 cats for a good long time.
Y’all should buy stock in Nose Offense.
(Speaking of Nose Offense, I actually got an email from the people who run the company saying they hadn’t heard from me in a while and hoped everything was okay. I know they probably send out the email to people who regularly buy large quantities of the stuff, but I thought it was funny. And wouldn’t you know, I did have to place an order!)
“Erm?”
Ugh, they are SO CUTE. I swear, I’m afraid I’m going to squeeze them ’til the marshmallow fluff comes out their ears.
“HI MAMA!”
“Oh, goody. You found me. I was hoping you would. No, really, I was.”
(My favorite part of this picture: Darwin in the back of the box with the tilted head.)
“HI MAMA! I FOUND YOU!”
“Yep, ya did.”
“HALLO LADY, WHAT DOIN’?”
I simultaneously want Logie to stay this size forever, and grow up NOW because I want to see what she’s going to look like!
Emmy’s face cracks me up.
Oh, how I love little blue-eyed kittens.
“WHAT DOIN’, LADY? HUH? WHAT DOIN’?”
I don’t know what it is about this kind of blanket that makes kittens want to lick it, but every time I go into the room, there are more and more spots on the blanket (which is laying on a cat bed near the box) that have been licked and then dried.
“What? It’s yummy!”
This look on Emmy’s face kills me dead.
You know, I don’t know. It wasn’t a particularly hot day. Maybe this was Elwood’s way of flirting with Tommy?
Or maybe, like Sugarbutt, he just likes to keep things aired out.
Previously
2011: No entry.
2010: No entry.
2009: “Hey, Suggie,” I said, super-casual. “How’s it going?”
2008: I suppose that’s what I get for not having a job, ain’t it?
2007: I think you can imagine how very fucking thrilled I was.
2006: It’s a little-known fact that the butt is the tenderest and most flavorful part of the cashew.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: I’d have to have a mind before I lost it, wouldn’t I?
2002: Luckily, I’ve perfected the mental art of putting my hands over my ears and humming very loudly should my mind ever try to wander in that direction.
2001: While we were on the way to the movie store this afternoon, she turned to me and said “For my birthday” which is in October, by the way, “Can I get another kind of pet?”
2000: Since then, Fred and I, predictably, have referred to smoking pot – when seen in movies – as “Smoking the wheat.”