I went shopping after work tonight, and when I got home and came in with my first load of bags, I noticed that it smelled like poo in the house. I thought maybe I’d stepped in dog poo somewhere and so I checked my shoes, but they were clean. And that’s about when I noticed the first poo in the middle of the living room floor.
I say “first poo” because it turns out there was poop in every.single.room of my house, and in all the non-room locations as well. Poo in the living room. Poo in the kitchen. Poo in the hallway. Poo on the stairs. Poo on the landing. Poo in the guest room. Poo in my bedroom. Poo in both bathrooms. Oh, and poo ON THE DAMN QUILT ON MY BED. Through some absolute miracle, there was no poo on my new furniture downstairs.
Did you catch the part where there was a lot of poop? It looked like Mr. Hanky was spreading Christmas cheer at my house in my absence. It was a horrible, stinky horror show, and officially the first time I’ve ever wondered what the hell I was thinking when I decided to get cats.
As it turns out, Marco’s sick with something. I am 99% sure that he just couldn’t control himself. Currently he’s closed in the downstairs bathroom with some water and white rice, and he’ll stay there until morning when I assess the situation and decide whether or not to call the vet. His ears and nose are hot and he’s really upset about being confined, but other than that he doesn’t seem to feel bad. I’ve gone in to visit him a few times and he purrs like a motorboat and tries to climb me. I think he is thinking that if he loves me hard enough I’ll let him out. He certainly isn’t having any problems with his voice, as I’ve been listening to him cry for a few hours now.
It took me two hours with a scrub brush and some Oxi-Clean to get all the poo spots up, and I’m thinking I may need to clean all the carpets just because. My bedding is still in the wash and I can’t go to bed ’till it’s dry. I was out spending most of my paycheck on groceries and clothes and Christmas presents before coming home to the poofest, so I’m hoping Marco’s not expensively ill. In a best case scenario he’ll make it through the night without any accidents and I’ll keep him on rice for the next 24 hours and he’ll be fine.
I was planning to write about my new hair stylist tonight but my appointment got rescheduled, so now you get a tale of a pooful townhouse instead. Aren’t you lucky?