What is life like living with a bunch of animals? Well, some days are better than others.
Prior to waking up this morning, I was awakened by a cat retching, most likely MoonShadow. Not that it is an unusual occurrance when you live with nine Ragdolls. Of course, by the time I got up, I’d forgotten about it. I remembered, ‘oh there must be some puke somewhere here’, just as I stepped in it. Those socks went into the wash. We have no wall to wall carpet in our house. When you breed cats and have kittens and nine adult cats around, you find that laminate and vinyl floors are far easier to keep clean. And they do make very nice vinyl floors now, that look like wood. But we do have area rugs scattered around. Did the upchucking, early morning cat deposit on the floor?? Noooo. Right on the rug. So prior to doing anything else, I was cleaning up the rug. Thank goodness for Resolve carpet spray and paper towels.
A short while later, as I walked downstairs and through the living room in the early morning dusk, I thought one of the flowers on the rug looked a little darker than the rest. Once I put the lights on, I found another puke and this one was full of hay. Teddy Bear had just come in after going out for morning business, and saw me looking at the dark thing on the rug. I swear he looked guilty. Since Luna, the collie, is crated, and cats don’t eat hay while they troll for duck food in the barn, the culprit was certainly Ted. So more Resolve was used and more paper towels. (I have to do this kind of thing frequently enough that I always keep a bottle of Resolve on both floors.)
All this happened before I had my tea.
After doing the alpaca chores – and yes, we do have to clean up poop while doing that – I came back in and let Rusty, my stud cat, out for exercise. Rusty, being intact, lives in a large enclosure in our family room, as he will spray around if left to his own devices. He is so hot to trot that he will also mount any other cat, no matter whether boy or girl, young or old, spayed or not. As a result, he is only allowed out into the family room, wearing his stud pants to keep him from spraying on the furniture. Well didn’t he decide to have diarrhea in his pants. Poor guy hates when that happens and immediately wants back into the enclosure and his pants removed. I then had to clean up the pants, dunking them in the toilet a few times like my mother used to do with soiled cloth baby diapers. Then into the sink they go, with Tide, to be cleaned. I may never have had children, but I’m still very familiar with diapers, er, I mean ‘stud pants’. Rusty has never let me clean him up, but prefers to do it himself, and thank goodness, he does a good job of it. (I’m so glad I’m not a cat…)
Oh well, such is life with animals…