… yup… sorry, not sorry. It’s my journal and if I want to be creepy, obsessive, and fixate on my cats entirely WAY too much I can. So ha! That’s that. Seriously if you don’t want to read my trials and tribulations of living with 2 high energy kittens and one cancer kitty you might just want to skip this journal for a week or two. I’ll change up the headline when I’m done with this kick.
It started Tuesday. I took Jake to the vet. I didn’t think much about it. Have cat, love cat, force cat to live indoors, take him out only for vet appointments. Had a great appointment. We met the other veterinarian at the practice and I’m very confident having my animals treated there. We brought Jake home. Jake was thrilled to be home… and then
Some one started spraying. I blamed the obvious culprit – Jake. If the kids leave clothes on the bathroom floor Jake will spray it. Yuck. So I bleached out the fairly clean litter box, scrubbed the crap out of the bath room and then…
Andy, who has never sprayed before (unless we mistakenly blamed Jake) sprayed on Deedee’s school binder and on top of the washing machine (which ended up going in the machine)(there were witnesses). Jake sprayed into my shower cap that fell off the hook and landed on my bedroom floor. Andy sprayed my bed. For crying out loud I’m a casualty in a very LITERALLY pissing contest. That’s pretty horrible and disgusting as it is (not too mention it REEKS), but there’s more.
Once two brothers roamed the house in the dark of night in pursuit of fun. They would chase each other around and around. Toys would be played with. They’d break into my room to show me what a great time they were having. Then one stormy day that all changed (I’m kidding, it was actually very sunny on Tuesday). Jake, Andy’s bbf, brother, and life partner left the house and never came back… okay seriously though, Jake DID come back, but now he smells different. Andy is freaking out. Something isn’t right with Jake.
So now the two brothers fight. They hiss and growl. Claws out, teeth bared, the game is no longer to play. The object is maim. The brothers are at war. I now am the not so proud fur mom to 2 pissing, fighting kittens. Oh but wait, there’s more…
Toothless, my princess, is declining. She can no longer make the trip to the litter box. She pooped in Deedee’s room… twice. I put a new litter box in the room for her so she won’t have to deal with walking across the house. The end is creeping up. I want more damn time! Selfish, I know. I don’t mind scrubbing up her accidents. It’s not her fault.
I looked up the whole run down on cats that spray and I understand it as, the boys are stressed. They lose their balls April 15th and it can’t come soon enough. In the meantime I’m getting a cat diffuser that releases calming pheromones into the air. It’s got decent reviews. I’m willing to try it out. If it saves me from having to bleach my mattress again, it’ll be well worth the investment. I kept thinking that I smelled like cat pee today despite the fact that I showered, wore fresh laundry that was washed with scent beads and dried with 3 scent sheets (over kill, I know), and did not personally clean up this morning’s mess when it was discovered cat, identity unknown, peed in BoBo’s toy bin on top of his plastic swords and guns.