I am sorry I have not written anything sooner. My life has been sucking pretty consistently. I plan on going to the doctor this week and maybe he can give me something for anxiety or just something that makes me sleep 24/7 for about a month.
Now on to our story, boys and girls.
Adventures in Cat Litter
My ex-husband, who I love dearly but do not want to live with, has been kind enough to not only take care of the four cats we had together, but to begin to take care of The Big Guy’s and my two cats. First he watched them just when we went to Florida, but he has them all the time now. I buy the food, medicine and litter and take them to the vets to assuage my guilt. Three of the other cats passed away, so he now has Blue, and my two cats Annie and Doodles.
He is a rugby fanatic. At least once a year he flies off to England to see the rugby internationals.
He calls me this past Tuesday, and tells me he is leaving the following day for England vs. Scotland. One day notice. I am still on the road driving up from Florida at that point.
I go to his house, get his mail and his papers and in I go. The overwhelming scent of dirty cat litter is the first thing I am aware of. It makes my eyes water.
The cats are all miffed that Daddy isn’t there, and they are mad that they don’t live with me, so they slink off to punish me. Fine, be that way.
The next day, I decide to buy the best cat litter money can buy. It’s Arm & Hammer Clump and Seal. It’s $1,000,000 a box. I don’t care how much it costs as long as the house does not smell like the monkey house at the zoo. It’s guaranteed not to smell for one week. Sounds good to me. I lug the 80 pounds (no joke) of cat litter into the house and up a flight of stairs. The entire time, Annie flirts with me by lying down on the stair in front of me. I was literally dragging the litter up.
I decide in my infinite wisdom to dump the dirty litter in a double kitchen bag. Then I lose my wisdom I decide to wash the box in his kitchen sink (no my house anymore). The sink immediately clogs.
I bring the box downstairs to clean in the laundry tub. There is calcium residue all over the box. It’s like cement so I decide to soak it in hot water. I squirt in some bleach, and destroy my red shirt. Ok. I get it all dry, and do the same to box 2, but this time I spill some litter on the floor in the kitchen. I am smart this time and wash the box downstairs, bleaching my jeans this time.
Today was the winner. Last box. I thought the box was smaller than the other two, so I use a single bag. I pour the litter in, and it’s obviously twice as much litter as the other boxes. At this point, I am unaware of the first hole that is quietly trickling out litter and god knows what with it.
I stand up; make it to the front door with the extremely heavy bag of cat treasures, and just before I hit the front door suddenly the bag starts to leak. Like a sieve. Litter and everything else spills onto the floor. I grab another bag and try stuffing the leaking bag into the second bag. At this point the bag starts to hemmorage cat litter on the rug and his front porch. I must have cleaned up cat litter for 20 minutes. The new cat litter by the way, works like a dream.