Between our two homes, we have three cats. Two of them travel with their humans, Ozzy (pic at right) with K- and Kiwi with A-, and the third one, Izzy, lives full time at my ex’s house. Except for when I cat sit her.
Until a month ago it wasn’t an issue because it never happened, which was fine with me: two cats is sufficient feline company without feeling like the neighborhood cat lady dude.
But schedules didn’t quite overlap properly with their house sitter a few weeks ago and I was in town, so Izzy joined the other two and the three of them stayed with me for a few days. With zero problems, other than Izzy being very shy and me learning first hand that she’s not the brightest cat because, apparently, of some brain injury related to an illness a year ago.
One of our litter boxes has a flap on the door and she couldn’t figure that out so went to the bathroom on the floor directly in front of the litter box. Easy to clean up, the door comes off, not a problem. One of those things ya gotta do with pets now and again, no reason for stress.
It’s not until a few days later when my girls return from a short trip that we find out that she’s also peed on K-‘s bed. Ugh. Okay, though. It happens. I pull off all the blankets and comforters and wash them all in my washing machine. Whatever. I can do laundry.
It wasn’t until this afternoon, though, that we realized the worst: Izzy had also peed on A-‘s bed, on a pile of K-‘s favorite clothes (including a sequin-covered dress) and on A-‘s floor too.
AUGH. Stupid cat!
Without really processing the fact that a sequin-covered dress isn’t washing machine friendly, I toss all of the clothes in the washer, figuring that the “sanitize” cycle will clean everything and get rid of that horrible ammonia smell. But sequins + washing machine = disaster.
The cycle finishes. The clothes all smell just fine. Success!
But the darn dress has basically disintegrated in the washer and there are hundreds of sequins on the clothes, on the floor, covering the washer drum, and worse. So I get to vacuum the laundry room floor and inside the washer too. A first. Who the heck needs to ever vacuum inside a washing machine?
At this point, the vacuum is full of pink sequins, as you can see, and I’m on load two of four loads of laundry needed so I can clean up all the bedding before A- shows up tomorrow, ready to go to sleep without any post-cat trauma.
And that damn cat. I don’t know what to say.
I love cats. I love dogs. I love just about all pets. But is it unreasonable for me to say I’m not enthusiastic about cat-sitting Izzy again? And those four reasons, in case you haven’t been counting: Two beds, two floors. More than enough for me, thanks.