Wednesday, March 22, 2006
The Princess and the Pee
You know how my dog has a sensitive stomach, and if ignored, said sensitivity turns her into a Blast-Ended Skrewt with "fire" shooting out of both ends? Yeah, well... She was showing early symptoms of such "sensitivity" at the beginning of last week.
I do not mess around with this. First signs of trouble, and I'm all "Wham, bam, take a Doggie Immodium, ma'am." I also put her right on the canine equivalent of the B(ananas) R(ice) A(pplesauce) and T(oast) diet, which is cooked pasta and boiled lean hamburger meat. This means, yes, I cook for her. I COOK FOR MY DOG. I know, but it's sooo much better than the alternative.
Now, Bella and Fred have a little routine with the dog kibble. I usually spill a couple bits off the scoop, which are Fred's. If I don't spill enough, Bella will take a step back from the bowl and lets Fred scoop out a few more with his paw. This is a sacred, sacred ritual upon which no Dustbuster should ever trespass.
However, last week Bella wasn't getting kibble. Consequently, Fred wasn't partaking in his twice-daily mooch. Fred was a little more MOW-y and screechy than usual, but I chalked it up to his General Weirdness. (And also, I got a new shower curtain, which is opaque, and it's put a real damper on their Shower Curtain Game, which deserves an entry of its own.)
Anway, I was watching TV and working on my laptop the other evening, when I got a whiff of an Ominous Smell. Cat pee has got to be the foulest, most persistent odor EVER. Yup. Fred peed in Bella's mesh toy box. He fucking peed all over her toys! Right in front of me! Grr. So I got out the bleach and threw the toys in the washer. Twice. Luckily, Bella's Monkey toy was spared, right? The whole four step clean-up routine is tiresome, but okay. At least nothing reeks of the Dreaded Pee.
Right after that, Fred immediately ran right into the bathroom and pooped in the litterbox. Oh-kay... so.. I know my cat's brain is the size of a cocoa puff, but at least he still knows what the litterbox is FOR, in theory. Cats do "revenge pee." They seldom just spray if they're fixed and have a litterbox. I had no idea what he was cranky with the dog about, but... see above, I figured it involved the Shower Curtain Game.
But then, the next day I was leaving for work, literally closing the door, when Fred crouched over Bella's toy box and peed AGAIN. WTF?!? Now I'm angry. I try to pick him up. (Note to cat owners: Bad idea. Do not try this at home.) He peed for two solid minutes all over her toys while I stood there, going, "What? WHY? Stop! Stop it right now!" He was all,"Whatever, pink hairless bee-otch!" and ran into the bathroom, and (wait for it) promptly pooped in the litterbox. I was like, "I officially declare this bathroom the Tiled Correctional Institute for Incorrigible Imps from Hell. You *stay* in there for the rest of the day!" Bleach. Disinfectant. Washing Machine. Febreze. Run out the door.
Sadly, this time Monkey was not so lucky. On the other hand, this is not that sad. This was Bella's fourth monkey overall. Let's review, shall we?
Monkey I: developed funky smell of dog toy death
Monkey II: Lost in Florida
Monkey III: Beheaded by Gunner
and now... Monkey IV: soaked in pee!
After two trips through the washer, Monkey still smelled like pee. I threw out Monkey IV and purchased Monkey V at Petsmart. Bella was thrilled. Joel was walking her when I drove up, and she practically carried the New Monkey up the stairs herself. At this point, her stomach was back to normal. As I doled out the kibble, Fred mewed happily like a normal, sane cat and munched on his usual portion. Then he practically skipped into the bathroom and immediately peed in the litterbox. A-HA! Note to self: Give the Weird Little Cat dog food NO MATTER WHAT. Got it.
That night, I woke up to hear Joel saying, "You shouldn't have left Monkey at the scene of the crime." He climbed back into bed, telling me Bella had gotten into the trash, but he already cleaned it up. Oh, and by the way, she left her brand new toy right there next to the mess; she really takes that thing EVERYWHERE. At which point, I rolled over and snored gratefully in his general direction. (It was a very appreciative, tender snore, I assure you.)
The next day (GOD, this is long. Sorry.) I noticed Bella's new Monkey had gotten torn in the exact same places as the old one. Weird. Then again, she was playing tug of war with it, which is how the first one got ripped. A few days go by. Everyone is doing their business in the appropriate places. Good good good.
Last night when I was vacuuming, I moved the giant pet bed. Lo and behold, there was New Monkey, not at all ripped, stuffed between the bed and the wall and sort of behind the curtain. So here's the thing- Bella must have gotten Monkey IV out of the trash. She went in and got her old monkey out and left the new one in its place. When Joel gave her New Monkey back after cleaning up the mess, she hid it between her bed and the wall.
I am not making any of this up. Be afraid. Be very afraid.