It had to happen

Given the joint themes of my recent entries -- cat barf and my exhaustion -- it should come as no surprise.

And yet, I was surprised.

Thursday morning.  Woke up.  Grabbed eyeglasses.  Reached over into nightstand drawer.  Picked up laptop computer.  Set laptop on bed.  Remained lying in bed.  Did morning e-mail and web check.  This took about a half hour.  Rolled over to seated position in preparation to get out of bed and discovered...

... two piles of cat barf on the bed. 

Yes.  My cat had barfed on my bed, during the night, and I slept right through it.

In retrospect -- which is to say -- now that it was staring right at me, I did have a vague recollection of hearing random cat noises during the night, and I might have even felt something almost damp on my legs (Ewww), but, at the time, my subconscious had decided to wave it off in the interest of getting a good solid five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

(What really amazes me is that I didn't smell it.  I mean, what with the fan making the scent waft delicately in my direction.)

I called the vet's office and reported that Jasmine was, y'know, throwing up more often than usual.  Her response was, "Well, if it's every day, or even every other day --"

Good Lord, woman, if my cat was barfing every other day, I wouldn't be on the phone.  I'd be waiting outside the door to the office, holding the cat and one of them vaguely U-shaped throw-up basins.

After discussion the content of my cat's barf, the vet nurse said it wasn't a problem and that it was just hairballs.  I was ordered to brush the cat every other day (we have actually just started a daily brushing program) and she also offered some medicine that will break up the hairballs easier. 

So, no worries.  Ran the comforter in my neighbor's high-capacity washer/dryer (with Extra Sanitary cycle).  Took about a day, but that sucker is clean.  At least until the next incident.