In case you can’t tell from the subject line, this one’s going to be a bit gross.
If you follow this blog, you know that I have two cats, Walter and Biddy. Here they are (Walter’s on the left and Biddy’s on the right).
They’re mostly good boys. But sometimes–maybe once a day–Walter will “play” with Biddy by pouncing on him. Biddy never likes it, but usually it isn’t a big deal.
There’s one place that Walter occasionally pounces that doesn’t turn out well for anyone. If Biddy is inside the litter box and Walter bites him, Biddy will exit the litter box and find another place to do his business.
You can see where this is going.
Last night, around maybe 5:00 in the morning, I had a weird dream. I was hanging out with a few ladies in my condo, and I smelled cat poop. This is in the dream. On some subconscious level, I assumed (in real life) that Biddy had taken a particularly impressive dump in the litter box, and the odor had drifted into my bedroom.
At 7:30 I woke up, slid out of bed, pulled up the covers, and went to empty the litter box. But something was odd: The litter box was empty. No poop.
I shrugged it off at the time, but for the first few hours of work, I continued to smell the unmistakably foul odor.
Eventually I walked past the bedroom and happened to glance at the bed. There, in the middle of my comforter, was…well, you know what was there. As you can see in the photo, Biddy is a big cat. His discharges are proportional to his girth.
As grossed out and angry as I was, I’m even more bewildered that I not only slept through the act of defiance, but I also made the bed with the poop on it and didn’t even realize it. It does not seem possible, but somehow it happened.
Also, I slept under a poop. For hours. I was the big spoon to a poop.
I don’t know what else to say. I’m still in shock.
Perhaps those of you who have pets or kids can relate. Do you have a similar story?