I know it's gross. But once in awhile, when I walk into our house, it stinks. Partially, it's our house-cleaning. Though Geoff is pretty good about keeping up with the dishes, and often laundry. I clean the bathroom every couple of weeks. But MOSTLY, I blame the cat. For example:
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A couple of weekends ago, Geoff and I rolled up our sleeves and went to work - he cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, I scrubbed the bathroom squeaky clean, we did all of the laundry, took out all of the garbages, even the litter box was changed. There was nothing to speak of that could cause a stink. In a good mood, I plugged in the candle warmer and dropped a Wassail-scented wax nugget in it, and popped some cookies in the oven. Not only did our house not stink, it smelled heavenly.
A couple of weekends ago, Geoff and I rolled up our sleeves and went to work - he cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, I scrubbed the bathroom squeaky clean, we did all of the laundry, took out all of the garbages, even the litter box was changed. There was nothing to speak of that could cause a stink. In a good mood, I plugged in the candle warmer and dropped a Wassail-scented wax nugget in it, and popped some cookies in the oven. Not only did our house not stink, it smelled heavenly.
.
For about ten minutes.
For about ten minutes.
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It was at that particular moment that Wally decided to take a dump in his litter box, which we realized as soon as it hit our nostrils. Being that our house is so small, the truly horrendous odor quickly filled the entire house, overpowering any and every good smell we had going. I was so pissed! You know, nevermind that everyone (or every animal) has to poop now and then, and that he was using his designated toilet area, and that he doesn't know any better and can't help it. The smell was so completely intrusive that I got mad at him. And, sadly, this sort of thing happens all the time. All the time. Sometimes I wonder why I agreed to get a cat. And I keep saying to myself that after Wally dies, we aren't getting another animal until our house is big enough that we can have a good spot for a litter box, like a backyard.
It was at that particular moment that Wally decided to take a dump in his litter box, which we realized as soon as it hit our nostrils. Being that our house is so small, the truly horrendous odor quickly filled the entire house, overpowering any and every good smell we had going. I was so pissed! You know, nevermind that everyone (or every animal) has to poop now and then, and that he was using his designated toilet area, and that he doesn't know any better and can't help it. The smell was so completely intrusive that I got mad at him. And, sadly, this sort of thing happens all the time. All the time. Sometimes I wonder why I agreed to get a cat. And I keep saying to myself that after Wally dies, we aren't getting another animal until our house is big enough that we can have a good spot for a litter box, like a backyard.
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But I also love the fat little furball. Hence, my love-hate relationship with the cute animal. I took these pictures last night. It's a typical night in the life of Walter Sylvestersmith.
But I also love the fat little furball. Hence, my love-hate relationship with the cute animal. I took these pictures last night. It's a typical night in the life of Walter Sylvestersmith.
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Not too happy that I interrupted his grooming session for a picture:
Not too happy that I interrupted his grooming session for a picture:
If looks could kill. I think he thinks I'm a moron.
The philosophical pose: "He who knows others is wise. He who knows himself is enlightened."
We worked out a litter-box cleaning system now, too. So hopefully that will help.
1 comment:
Those are great pictures. What a funny cat!
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