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?
Haha! I’m sorry I’m laughing at your misery. But this line, “I was the big spoon to a poop.” Oh, it gives me some good chuckles. I hope your next sexy dream will not be stinky.
I hope so too. 🙂
I agree with Jasmin that it’s hard not to chuckle at your line of “being the big spoon to a poop,” and am glad I’ve never experienced this particular level of animal behavior.
Jasper’s biggest issue is his sensitive stomach, and while he’s pretty small, one of his puking incidents resulted in soaking through a thick comforter, quilt, 2 sheets, the mattress pad, and the mattress topper I had on my old bed. His cookie tossing tends to happen more at night, which has led to me learning how to be alert for the tell tale noise that disaster is imminent, even when I’m sound asleep, and take action before his stomach strikes.
Hopefully you have a more restful and less smelly nights sleep tonight. 🙂
Oh, poor Jasper. I’m glad animals are usually pretty good at alerting us to their moments of weakness.
Our long-hair will yak a fur ball in the middle of the night… wherever she is… on the bed. She then moves off the bed since “who would want to sleep there”-attitude . I’ve become sensitive to the pre-yak gagging to save the covers for all of us.
Ha ha…the description of her attitude made me chuckle. Such a cat.
Oh, man. This reminded me of a particularly … indelicate … situation that occurred a few years back. The underside of our couch had a thin black covering comprising woven black fibers about a quarter-inch wide. Well, our cat, Tigger, liked to crawl under there and claw at it until, after so much activity, the covering was fraying horribly.
One day, we came home, and Tigeer was behaving oddly. As he scooted away, we noticed a black string trailing him. On closer inspection, we discovered that the fiber was coming from his butt. Evidently, he had seen fit to eat one of them. It was bothering him, so we knew what we had to do. One of us held him firmly while the other one essentially “flossed” the fiber from his butt. How long was it, you ask? I’d say about three feet. None of the three of us particularly enjoyed the process.
Justin: Oh my. 3 feet? I can imagine that was rough on all of you, but I’m glad you were able to take care of it!
Not sure as your mom I should post, and right there with that thought I should NOT post. So will just say
You as a little 4 year old ….. well… let’s just say I was so mad I actually had to dial a friend to calm down. So yes I think I can relate. I had always asked the question: Was Jamey mad at me? So are the cats trying to communicate something to you?
Maybe someone else was in my litter box!