I'll tell ya.
.... so, when I got home from the massage, I curled up on the couch to watch some TV and cuddle my cat. Jasmine actually let me brush her a little bit, which was pretty rare. I usually only get three or four strokes out of her before she realizes I'm using the brush and then tries to bite it, or me. But this time, quite a bit. When she eventually gave up, she started chewing on the bristles. Not the brush, the bristles. After I dropped the brush, she kept chewing.
My idiot cat was eating her fur off the brush.
Fast forward to 2:00 a.m. I send her scampering down the hall while I make my retreat into my bedroom and close the door, as per usual. I get ready for bed. This includes turning down the sheets. It is then that I notice it. The big puddle of cat barf--with a hairball in it--smack dab in the center of my comforter.
Man, somebody around here has to learn something about cause and effect.
Anyway ... not wanting to open the bedroom door (at which point she'd gleefully try to follow me in) and it being too late to do laundry anyway, I picked up the evidence with the best available tool (a few "personal wipes" from the bathroom) and flushed it. Only when it was circling the drain did I think that sending a huge clump of hair down the toilet was probably a bad idea. Eh, whatever. I draw the line at sticking my hand in a toilet to pull out a hairball.
Actually I draw the line way before that.
3 comments:
Aw man. What a naughty kitty to barf right in the middle of the bed. (Sometimes I think they ARE stinkers.) Sorry, Z Girl. You might do better to keep her out of the bedroom during the day or whenever you're NOT in there with her.
Meow.
There's one true thing about cats. They'll pay you back for all that you give them. I love them anyway! Pennie
So do I!
Lori
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