So it has come to this.
I recently took a trip to to the Central Coast and boarded all three cats for the two nights I was gone. Prior to boarding them though I had to 1) get the shots up to date for two of them as my brother had not kept up with that and 2) buy another cat carrier as my brother only gave me two carriers for three cats one of whom, as mentioned before, is gargantuan.
Upon returning from my cat free retreat I collected my feline charges from the vet and was serenaded with their meows to my house. They were quite happy to be back, as far as I could tell, cats don’t really show emotion or appreciation in any way whatsoever except maybe shedding on you. I too was happy to be back, but not happy to be back with them.
I unpacked, tidied up the house a little, got some dinner and went to bed. In the morning I opened my bedroom door and was greeted with the biggest ass smear to date on the hall carpet. It’s as if Fat Java shat in the hall avoiding the litter box all together then dragged her ass over it down the hall. Bleah. I think I have reached the point where the scale determining whether I clean her butt for her or just keep spot cleaning my carpet has tipped in her favor especially after cleaning the streaks from yesterday and waking to new ones this morning. (I just threw up a little in my mouth typing that).
Lastly, I’ve found I new reason to hate cats, well, it’s not really a new reason it’s just magnified. They scratch, on purpose or accidentally, everything. For example, I take these…
…and make them into these….
It takes a lot of work to strip the paint, sand the doors, cut the wood, set the tile, then stain and varnish one of these suckers. This morning I was having my breakfast at one of my gorgeous tables and Fat Java decides to do a standing stretch and place her paws on the end of my beautiful piece of functional art, extend her claws in cat stretch ecstasy and SCRATCHED MY TABLE!!!! (Insert Sideshow Bob grumble here.)