Friday, March 25, 2011
Once upon a time...
...there was a girl that longed for sunshine. Her skin turned gray and her smile snuck into hibernation. Age began to show on this girls face, the weight of too many winters wore deep wrinkles around her eyes. Oh sunshine, please bring warmth and rescue this girl. Lift her spirits and smooth her worries. Remind her of the simple pleasures of birds singing and flowers blooming. This girl needs you sunshine.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Embarrasing story time
A group of people were talking the other day about the strangest places their cat has ever peed. This got me thinking about Franklin and how much I didn't know about cats before I got him.
As a dog person, I'd heard horror stories about cat pee. Cat pee will stay in your house forever, seeping into the floorboards, eating through concrete, contaminating the soil with a stench so deeply rooted that calls come in from the other side of the world complaining of the stench. This was my impression of cat pee.
Cut to me, living on my own, wanting a pet. I found Franklin at the shelter, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I brought him home.
Purchasing kitty litter and supplies, I remembered all the horrific stories. What was I going to do? When ever I was home, I would stalk him around my two bedroom apartment, always supervising to make sure he didn't pee. I think he thought this was a fun game as he dashed from room to room with me on his tail.
Eventually I relaxed. He was a good kid, used his litter box like a good boy. I figured all of those 'stories' I'd heard must have been from bad, temperamental cats.
Fast forward to moving into our house. He was a little shocked by the move, but pretty resilient for a cat. That Christmas though, we through him for a loop when we brought home SAMMY. Even though she was only a mere 40lbs at the time, that was 40lbs of crazy, tail flailing, limb flying shenanigans that Franklin wanted none of. And he wanted to LET US KNOW.
He decided to jump into a clothes basket, full of clean, folded clothes, and PEE. I have no idea when he did this, because by the time I was doing my normal morning dash through the house to get to work on time, I went to grab some clothes from the laundry basket and they were still nicely folded and DRY.
It was probably about 10'oclock at work when I finally yelled over my cube wall, "Do you guys smell that? It STINKS in here". They were all 'no, I don't really smell anything'. I was all "REALLY, I think it smells like PISS!" I think I might have even asked a couple of people to come in my cube to see if they could smell it. Either they said they didn't smell anything or I'm blocking it out......
Later that day I was in the bathroom stall when I actually took a whiff of my shirt. As you can deduce, IT WAS ME. I was wearing cat piss clothing.
I was horrified.
Of course, now, two jobs later, I can share this story and laugh at the way it all played out.
The moral of the story is, don't piss off your cat or he will piss on you.
As a dog person, I'd heard horror stories about cat pee. Cat pee will stay in your house forever, seeping into the floorboards, eating through concrete, contaminating the soil with a stench so deeply rooted that calls come in from the other side of the world complaining of the stench. This was my impression of cat pee.
Cut to me, living on my own, wanting a pet. I found Franklin at the shelter, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I brought him home.
Purchasing kitty litter and supplies, I remembered all the horrific stories. What was I going to do? When ever I was home, I would stalk him around my two bedroom apartment, always supervising to make sure he didn't pee. I think he thought this was a fun game as he dashed from room to room with me on his tail.
Eventually I relaxed. He was a good kid, used his litter box like a good boy. I figured all of those 'stories' I'd heard must have been from bad, temperamental cats.
Fast forward to moving into our house. He was a little shocked by the move, but pretty resilient for a cat. That Christmas though, we through him for a loop when we brought home SAMMY. Even though she was only a mere 40lbs at the time, that was 40lbs of crazy, tail flailing, limb flying shenanigans that Franklin wanted none of. And he wanted to LET US KNOW.
He decided to jump into a clothes basket, full of clean, folded clothes, and PEE. I have no idea when he did this, because by the time I was doing my normal morning dash through the house to get to work on time, I went to grab some clothes from the laundry basket and they were still nicely folded and DRY.
It was probably about 10'oclock at work when I finally yelled over my cube wall, "Do you guys smell that? It STINKS in here". They were all 'no, I don't really smell anything'. I was all "REALLY, I think it smells like PISS!" I think I might have even asked a couple of people to come in my cube to see if they could smell it. Either they said they didn't smell anything or I'm blocking it out......
Later that day I was in the bathroom stall when I actually took a whiff of my shirt. As you can deduce, IT WAS ME. I was wearing cat piss clothing.
I was horrified.
Of course, now, two jobs later, I can share this story and laugh at the way it all played out.
The moral of the story is, don't piss off your cat or he will piss on you.
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