.. for the WORST THING IN THE WORLD:
Last night I was working really hard on drifting off to sleep when I heard Cheddar making “about to puke” noises. Most of the time, we ignore them – she’s gonna throw up and we can’t do anything about it, so we’ll clean it up later. I was fully prepared to pretend I didn’t hear her, when .. *splash*.
What the fuck. That sounded .. wet. She was also gearing up to puke again, so I leapt out of bed and ran to my bathroom just as she was throwing up on my rug. Well, that’s better than the carpet, I guess. I made sure she was done, then looked for the source of the splash. She puked on my bathmat – annoying, but they can be washed. Oh, look – she must have been on the toilet lid when she started throwing up. Okay, let’s wet some paper towels to clean things up, and ..
.. was she on my counter?
OH GOD WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK
I found the splash: my lovely pain in the fucking ass cat had thrown up while standing on my bathroom counter; COVERING my makeup and brushes in a vile trifecta of gross liquid, food, and hairball. She actually filled an upturned lid with vomit. I was thoroughly disgusted, and fucking LIVID – Cheddar never goes up on my bathroom counter, so why the fuck was she there and also decided it was the best place in the world to throw up?
I spent the next hour swearing loudly and disinfecting my entire bathroom. I was glad (but still angry) to discover she hadn’t puked on any open containers; I was able to salvage everything (except the lid; I was too horrified to deal with it). Brushes were soaked in a disinfecting brush cleaner and rinsed within an inch of their lives. All containers and compacts were rinsed, wiped down, and cleaned again. Counter was scoured. Rugs and bathmats were thrown in the laundry; cat was glared at really hard. I’m still annoyed with her, and she’s banned from my bathroom (and should probably be banned from my office for good measure). Animals are disgusting. Why do I have them again?
It’s probably good that I am so broke at the moment, or I’d be tempted to throw out all my makeup and buy new stuff that wasn’t once covered in vomit. Sure, I’d need to go to the UK to fully do so, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice. I am a trooper.
One thought on “new contender”
I think an animal’s thought process is:
“I don’t feel quite right. I should go somewhere I never go/on to the only carpeted spot in the house/in a shoe/on top of some clean clothes and see if I feel better. Hmm, still feel icky – oh no! I’m going to-” BLERGH.
It’s the only reason I have to explain why my dogs go for the carpet when they’re about to vomit.