Back to Reality

On Friday I came back from a 5 day cruise with my girlfriends in the Caribbean. It was a completely relaxing and wonderful time, and I was enjoying my vacation buzz on the way home from the airport. As I walked in the door though, i immediately felt the tell-tale signs of anxiety raise within me. It didn't make sense, I'd been home for 5 minutes and was on a serious vacation high. I tried to brush it off, but what I ended up brushing was cat fur, off the sofa I wanted to sit on. I got up to get a snack, and noticed some mouse poop on the floor, mice that the cat is responsible for (at least partially because of his food) -- and can't even get rid of. And a smell.

Every house has a smell, some are stronger than others, but when you've been away for a while, you can sorta smell your smell. And mine smelled like cat. Everything cat. Cat food, cat pee, just ugh. Grossness. My relaxation bubble popped before I even unpacked.

This morning I went for a run and pondered how this cat has so much control over me. Why does he bother me so much? How does he have a way of raising my blood pressure in a way that it has never risen around anything else before? I'm not an angry person, but I feel incredible anger towards this cat. I'll ignore it, or the annoyances will die down, but I swear, I'm losing atleast a couple months off my life from the stress he causes me. My blood pressure rises at the sight or smell of him. Then it struck me, if I could afford it, I would go to therapy. Maybe theres a latent anger I never dealt with that he's bringing out in me.

I can't afford therapy so I decided to administer some self therapy. I tried to think of the top things it was about him that bother me. This is what I came up with:

His unruly mane that sheds EVERYWHERE.
His constant smell of alley, waste and just cat.
His habit of peeing in random corners every couple weeks. (Which contributes to the smell)
The fact that he scratches me on a regular basis.
When his shedding gets really crazy, I get allergic and have trouble breathing.

When I looked at it that way, it seemed pretty easy to hate him. After some introspection, I realized none of those things really sound like I have a problem. But maybe I could come up with a couple solutions? Maybe my avoidance of solutions have something to do with my subconscious? I thought of three things: Improving his hygiene (regular nail trims, brushing, and if possible baths). Keeping the house immaculate at all times to detect peeing and prevent it. Taking allergy pills year-long -- so that I can brush and bath him without irritation.

I don't think I can do all of that, but I'll try to keep the floors cleaner and enlist my roommate -- who owns the darn thing -- to help. And who knows, if I'm feeling crazy I'll brush him a couple times a week. It's still up to my roomie to trim his nails, but those little things might help make him a little less gross.

I'm also investing in air freshener.

The little things

It's the little things in life that matter. Like a sweet piece of candy after a satisfying meal. Or a cool pillow to lay your head upon.

In the case of the horrible cat, life would be better if he didn't come with "little things."

I've gotten over the disgust of picking up a scarf off the floor only to discover the scarf also picked up a clump of fur while it was in the cat's turf. I've moved past the annoyance of stepping on a piece of the cat's food  -- which he'll take from his bowl, then spit out on the floor so that he nibble on it, inevitably leaving pebble size crumbs that are prime for stepping on. But the one thing I wont get over is the kitty litter, which somehow, makes it's way all over the house.

Somehow, little pieces stowaway on feet, fur, or something else, to end up everywhere. I woke up this morning, and as my feet met the floor, they also met a little white piece of litter. How, I would like to ask, does litter end up in my room, when the cat isn't even allowed in?

I did some thinking and realize it must have come from my roommate, who came into my room last night to chat. She had been putting clothes away in her room, and was wearing slippers. When I went into her room this morning, sure enough, there was a collection of litter that the cat has flung out of the litter box, all around the floor near her closet. It made enough sense that she would  walk on it, some would get picked up, and be carried into my room.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. I vacuumed her floor for her. Than I vacuumed mine, and was dismayed to find that what I thought was old paint spots that had dripped onto the floor, turned out to be more stowaway kitty litter. I even vacuumed the hallway. Once this was done, I took a shower and got ready for the day. I went into her room to look in her mirror (it's more flattering than mine). The cat happened to be in the litter box while I was in there. He was doing his thing, and just as I turned to walk out, I glanced back one more time at him. He looked squarely at me, then dug his paw into the litter and flung a little bit out onto the floor I'd just vacuumed.

Life would be so much better with horrible cat sans the little things.

Rewind

Over the past couple weeks, I've softened towards the insidious beast that I share a roof with. But over the past couple days, he's begun to test my patience at formal levels of annoyance.

First I came home yesterday, and found he's spilled all of his cat food around the mat. This is annoying on a couple levels. One, it's a pain to clean up. Two, I like to walk around barefoot and the little pieces of food get stuck to my feet, which is painful, and obnoxious. And three, we still have mice, and I reckon that they enjoy this spillage as much as I hate it -- since it makes it reasonably easy for them to scurry out, grab a kibble, and take it back to their hole in the wall.

Second, I had to wake up early today, and instead of giving me a precious extra half hour of sleep, horrible cat insisted on scratching at my door starting at 6am. When I got up, he insisted on following me around and meowing. I got him his food, but he wouldn't be quiet. I'm sure he just wants attention, but at 6:30 in the morning he's definitely annoying.

Horrible cat, horrible habits

Ever since horrible cat has been home, he's been much more mellow. Admittedly, he still is on meds. His crazy hour has also slightly shifted with the time (or chemical) change, so he hasn't been as obnoxious in the mornings. He still runs around like a nut, but it usually doesn't start until I'm already put together -- so it's not nearly as distracting.

He did trip me up on my way out the door as he tried to sneak outside, but I don't really think that was a deliberate sabotage attempt -- he just wanted to visit his friends in the alley. (But until he's off his meds completely, he can't go out unsupervised.) To be honest, it's a little weird not to be annoyed with him.

Though he is a total remote-hog.

 

the problems

Mice part 2

So I wasn't totally off when I thought that h-cat was consorting with the enemy. Today a wonderful man came to look at our mouse problem. We're pretty neat people and rarely leave food out, so we were really having trouble figuring out was attracting the mice in the first place. It turns out that the exterminator is 100% certain that the mice have been eating h-cat's food. Apparently, in the middle of the night, when we're all asleep, the mice scurry into the dining room where we feed the cat, and take some of his food. Then they store it somewhere most likely in the walls. Because they have such a ready source, the exterminator believes they have quite the stockpile, which means it'll take twice as long for them to go after the bait that he set out to catch them. Not only is the cat not doing his job, but he's aiding and abetting the enemy.

There goes my roommate's theory that the cat would scare them away if they went near his food.