Miah does Housesitting, Part II

Some of you may have already read about being looked at like I am an idiot by a dog over the weekend. As splendorous as that was, nothing exceeds Skinny Cat pooping on the bed where I had lain my head.

For those of you who have been following this, you know that many moons ago, my humble abode served as a domicile for a tranvestite male kitten named Lady Godiva. You also know that our arrangement did not work very well; within 48 hours of finding the litter box, LG (as he as affectionately called) was transferred to another home to live out the rest of his 8 lives.

When my friend asked me to housesit her menagerie, I figured I could handle a cat for a night. No biggie.

2 cats: Oscar and the one I call Skinny Cat (imagine Phoebe from Friends "Smelly Cat", but change the concept to Skinny Cat and you get the idea). Oscar was cool--he scratched the shit out of me, but hey I guess that was my fault. Who am I to try to pet a housecat? Skinny Cat, however, was, a bit different. Skinny Cat looked like she had not eaten in months. As my friend LOVES her animals, I was sure Skinny Cat was being fed. Her frail frame made a little more sense when I was informed that Skinny Cat is 16 people years old--equivalent to about 88 cat years. When you think about it, how many plump 88-year-olds do you know? So I figured it was a symptom of a life well lived.

Skinny Cat pretty much left me alone--until I found a jello-cup and she decided she wanted some. Now, just like I don't know the dietary restrictions of an 88-year-old person and would not feed them off of my plate, I do not know the dietary resrictions of an 88-year-old cat and would not feed her the remnants of my jello-cup. Just my luck, Skinny Cat is allergic to gelatin and has a severe allergic jello attack which leaves her in a coma, unconscious and fighting for her life. Needless to say, I did not give Skinny Cat the jello.

About 3 am I fell asleep in the guest room, on top of the covers because I was cold. About 5 am I was stirred from my slumber by the distinct padding of cat paws on my legs. Opening one eye in a very unfamiliar environment, I saw Skinny Cat walking on the bed. I ignored her--I mean, who pushes an 88 year old off the bed?

I dozed back off. About 20 minutes later, I was stirred again from my slumber by the very distinct smell of poop. Popping both eyes open in the now more familiar environment, I surveyed my dark surroundings. I did not see any poop at first, which made me hesitant to put my tootsies on the floor; who wants to step in poop? I groped around for a light, and as soon as the room was luminated, I saw a (albeit small) lump of squishy brown just to the left of where I was sleeping.

Pause. My friends now know what happened next. I let out a string of curse words that would make any sailor, preacher, or mother weep. (Thanks dad for teaching me all the good words)

Once over the initial shock, I stripped the bed and tossed the bedding in the washing machine. The only thing waking up next to wet poop is coming home to dry poop.

I figured Skinny Cat was still angry about the jello incident and was letting me know how she really felt.

Moral: Always give the cat jello.

*M*

PS--On a more serious note, Skinny Cat is seriously ill with some sort of thyroid problem. :( She had never exhibited such behavior before and my friend is very worried about her pet. Please send a prayer up to God for Skinny Cat.