Thursday, January 27, 2011

Furry Poop

DUDE. Chucky pooped all over himself yesterday. NASTY.

He came in from the laundry room all scared and ashamed while waddling toward me at the kitchen sink. I eyed him suspiciously.

I have never had any incidences with him not using the litter box. I never expected to pick him up and find fresh stool matted to his entire body. I knew as soon as I grabbed him and felt his wet fur squish between my fingers something was terribly, terribly wrong. But in my usual groping manner I pulled him to my chest to smother him. It was only after it was too late that I realized I just gave myself a cat-poo stamp right on my new shirt. Decent maternity shirts are hard to come by. I was pissed. I raised my fist to the sky and cursed whatever deity had allowed this.

I immediately threw him in the sink. I grabbed his neck and head in the palm of my hand and soaked his entire body. I had to peel the little turd strips from between each cat finger.I learned that cats don't really enjoy baths. I felt so used.

After I had a sopping wet kitten that was pretty awesome-looking so I then I made him have a photoshoot. Look at how angry he was:

I dried him off sufficient then let him escape my evil grasp. Two minutes later he came and crawled onto my lap and wanted to cuddle. I finished drying him and was glad he didn't hold grudges.

After this shenanigans I had an epiphany:
In 3 1/2 months when I have the baby, my life will consist of scrubbing feces off of little animals. Not very awesome. I hope it cuddles after. amen.

P.S. The smile on my face is fake. Being pregnant sucks at least 75% of the time.

1 comment:

  1. Please don't tell me how bad pregnancy sucks. I am already on the highest dose of Zanax available.


Speak with your heart or your private parts, either one is fine with me.


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