The three p’s: pee, puke and poop. My concern about these should clue you in that Ashley and I are the (1) proud owners of three cats.
While they are a lot of fun to have around, mornings are rough for all of us. About a month ago Taz decided that pooping in the litter-box was for posers and now just shits on the floor right by the litter-box in what I suppose is her openly ironic statement on litter-boxes in a post-postmodernist world. But she only makes this statement at night and when we’re gone for a few hours. When we’re home and awake, she uses the litter-box just fine.(2)
She also just doesn’t always make it to the box in time when she has to pee. So for a while there were nefarious and nigh-invisible puddles on the kitchen floor. Like a mine-field of urine. And let me just say that soiling your foot in kitty-piddle before you’ve even managed to pour coffee into your coffee mug does not make for a happy AM for anyone, ironic hipster-kitty statement or no.
And Switters sometimes just likes to spray. Mostly he does this on Ashley’s clothes, but occasionally on the sofa. And once or twice right on Ashley.
Randal goes through periods of a few weeks in which he throws up a lot. As does Switters. As does Taz.
So, yeah. My mornings sometimes are about not stepping in, locating, and cleaning up any or all of the three p’s.(3)
Monday morning seemed like a good day. There was no poop by the litter-box, so I figured Taz must have had a good night. I grabbed my coffee, took my shower(4), got dressed and headed to the living room for a little pre-work-day watching of the Today show.(5)
What I found first was small pile of doo-doo right in front of my chair. This is a new spot for Taz(6) and I chided her softly for it before cleaning it up. I got my cereal around and sat down in my chair and that’s when I noticed a pile of puke on the loveseat. Switters had obviously had a rough night too.(7) As I went to the kitchen for paper towels I noticed a second pile of puke on the sofa.
Apparently it was a rough night for the furniture too.
After cleaning the new messes up, I spied an odd reflection that meant only one thing: pee. How appropriate, right? Why give me two p’s to deal with when you can so easily give me three?!
The pile of pee was probably Switters, since it was aimed in the direction of Ashley’s sandals, but I’ve seen Taz nearly pee on her sandals lately too. The only cat exempt from scorn was Randal. In fact, Randal’s the cat I never have to worry about. He generally wants to be left alone and he’ll let me know when he wants attention and he’ll do so in a non-jerk way, as opposed to Switters who’ll sit on my book or otherwise on my chest instead of my lap. The only thing Randal does is puke, and the only problem with that is that Taz will eat it.(8) And that’s really more of a problem with Taz.(9)
So I cleaned up the urine as well, scolding the cats a little more but not too harshly.
Then, before bed, Taz and Switters were in the living room with me and Ashley. I called Randal in for a family meeting and informed them all that if no one peed, puked or pooped on the floor I would buy them a cheeseburger after work today.
And in the morning…well, what do you know? I owed them a cheeseburger. Even a double-cheeseburger only costs a buck, which is way worth it if I don’t have to wake up ten minutes early every morning just to clean up the kinds of things the Center for Disease Control says you should really try to stay away from.
I bought them a cheeseburger and, contrary to what the LOLcats site would have you believe, cats don’t really care for cheeseburgers. Except for Taz.(10) She ate more than half of a double-cheeseburger, meat, bun, pickles and all.
And then this morning there were a few very unhappy piles of liquid shit. How personally I take a pile of shit in the AM is directly proportional to the general liquidity of said offensive specimen. But I could only blame myself.
So yeah no. They no can has cheezburger.
- Mostly. Depends on what they’re up to at that moment.
- Mostly. She did once poop on the floor right by my foot while I was reading. The obvious anti-authoritarian motive behind it was appreciated, if not the method itself.
- You want my life. I know you do.
- With the coffee in the shower with me.
- My peculiar love of the Today show is difficult to explain but I’ll try in a different post.
- Yes, I know whose shit it was. I know – on sight – which feces belongs to which feline.
- Yep. I know their vomit too.
- She will literally eat anything. The only thing she doesn’t seem to like much is cat food…but she’ll still eat it.
- Plus Randal is the loudest cat ever, behaviorally, and his puke-noise is fierce.
- See note 8, supra.