Right now, I’m envisioning a long, happy, and prosperous life without any cats in it! Griswald, the little fuzzy bastard whose photo I posted this morning, just took a whizz on my bed while I was making it up. Worse yet, on the bed, was a featherbed cushion Todd’s mom had given us last year for Christmas. A featherbed which is meant to be dry-cleaned or professionally laundered. A featherbed which is, as we speak, in the washing machine. I figure if going through the wash doesn’t ruin it, it getting pissed on repeatedly would.
A couple of days ago, I thought the bed-spread smelt vaguely of cat-pee. So I stripped the covers off and washed everything. When I put the bed back together, I forgot to put the cover back on the featherbed, and therefore last night was a very prickly night, so I tore the bed apart again, just a few minutes ago, and started wrangling the cover back onto the featherbed. While I was wrangling, of course, the cat had to come and make a nuisance of himself. I threw him off the bed several times. Finally, I got the cover on the featherbed, and so he settled himself smack in the middle of the bed. I was shaking out the sheet, getting ready to put it back on, when I noticed he was in the “pee zquat” and so I grabbed him up, and sure enough, he’d left a pretty good puddle, smack in the middle of the featherbed.
I could just about hang the little varmint.
I’m thinking it is an escalation of the turf war between the two cats. The bed is mostly Sugar’s domain, and he may be trying to claim it as his own. Already Griswald is banned from the bedroom while I am sleeping, as he gets the late-night crazies and goes around on the dressers knocking things over and chewing on the window-blinds. I think I’m about to institute a “No Cats In The Bedroom Under Any Circumstances” policy starting tonight. I can’t keep Griswald out and let Sugar in, and while she behaves herself in the bedroom nowadays, I obviously cannot trust Griz.
Gaah. Fucking living with animals!
(edited 9-23-07 – it turned out that he was developing a bladder infection. A few days later I took him to the vet and had to put him on antibiotics. He had a prescription food for a while, too, but he ultimately refused to eat it, so now he is on a low-ash organic food that he prefers and which seems to agree with his innards)