Stupid, Disgusting, Upchucking Felines (8/4/05 9:32 PM)
Warning: For those of you who read Jaya’s blog, this is quite a contrast from her recent content.
Stupid cats! I have never lived with cats before, and I am not a big proponent of house pets in general. I must admit, however, that I thought that the cats here were sort of cool. Thought. Were. Notice the tense.
This evening I was enjoying myself and relaxing, reading Sister Carrie (Theo Dreiser). It was about 8:45, and I was getting tired. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be glorious to just go to bed now at nine o’clock?” Then I thought, “Yes!” So, I finished my chapter, climbed the stairs and brushed my teeth. Then I turned out the lights, and was looking forward to climbing into my nice, warm, CLEAN bed. Like I said, I was doing this in the semi-dark, as is my custom, and the situation could have been even more disastrous.
I climbed the stairs to the loft, and sitting there on the hard-to-launder sheepskin upon which I lay my head each night was a filthy, putrid, lumpy “gift” from one of the accursed cats. Now I don’t know how many of you have had vomit in your bed before but I can tell you from my now multiple experiences that it is a) jarring and b) the worst thing that can happen excluding having someone rip out your precious liver from your living body (speculation). Great! So now I have to clean up this vomit. Oh look! There’s more over there, yay! Now I’m thinking about how smart I am for not wanting pets and how stupid for leaving my door open and trusting those crusty, rotten creatures. As stated, I do not have cat tending experience, so these multiple puke piles in my sleeping area motivated me to start asking some questions. Do cats, as human children do, just keep puking once they get started, or did some sort of ritual, communal purge take place in my formerly welcoming zone of slumber? How the hell am I going to clean this up? And the related question: Why won’t it just disappear if I go away, look at the cleaning products, and return?
Of course, I ended up cleaning it by hand (as opposed to wishing it successfully away). It was absolutely terrible. Oh the smell! I almost added to the chore by revisiting my dinner as well. With great concentration and likely the assistance of my good friend inertia, I was able to avoid the catastrophe.
I used Woolite to clean the sheepskin, for the obvious reason. It is drying now, and I will be forced to sleep in a partially dismantled bed tonight. I have already checked for additional masses of partially digested animals and cat food.
I miss my houseplants.
P.S. Also it's like picking up random bird parts is my new hobby.
Stupid cats! I have never lived with cats before, and I am not a big proponent of house pets in general. I must admit, however, that I thought that the cats here were sort of cool. Thought. Were. Notice the tense.
This evening I was enjoying myself and relaxing, reading Sister Carrie (Theo Dreiser). It was about 8:45, and I was getting tired. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be glorious to just go to bed now at nine o’clock?” Then I thought, “Yes!” So, I finished my chapter, climbed the stairs and brushed my teeth. Then I turned out the lights, and was looking forward to climbing into my nice, warm, CLEAN bed. Like I said, I was doing this in the semi-dark, as is my custom, and the situation could have been even more disastrous.
I climbed the stairs to the loft, and sitting there on the hard-to-launder sheepskin upon which I lay my head each night was a filthy, putrid, lumpy “gift” from one of the accursed cats. Now I don’t know how many of you have had vomit in your bed before but I can tell you from my now multiple experiences that it is a) jarring and b) the worst thing that can happen excluding having someone rip out your precious liver from your living body (speculation). Great! So now I have to clean up this vomit. Oh look! There’s more over there, yay! Now I’m thinking about how smart I am for not wanting pets and how stupid for leaving my door open and trusting those crusty, rotten creatures. As stated, I do not have cat tending experience, so these multiple puke piles in my sleeping area motivated me to start asking some questions. Do cats, as human children do, just keep puking once they get started, or did some sort of ritual, communal purge take place in my formerly welcoming zone of slumber? How the hell am I going to clean this up? And the related question: Why won’t it just disappear if I go away, look at the cleaning products, and return?
Of course, I ended up cleaning it by hand (as opposed to wishing it successfully away). It was absolutely terrible. Oh the smell! I almost added to the chore by revisiting my dinner as well. With great concentration and likely the assistance of my good friend inertia, I was able to avoid the catastrophe.
I used Woolite to clean the sheepskin, for the obvious reason. It is drying now, and I will be forced to sleep in a partially dismantled bed tonight. I have already checked for additional masses of partially digested animals and cat food.
I miss my houseplants.
P.S. Also it's like picking up random bird parts is my new hobby.
posted by Ashleigh @ 3:24 PM
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