Fur Babies

Before Henry was born, my two cats and dog were my babies.  My animals and I would snuggle under the covers.  I’d take Dana dog to the dog park every day.  I’d roll around with them on the floor.  I even took pride in grooming them.  Mostly, I was more forgiving of their…um, shortcomings.

For years, we’ve had to feed them all in separate rooms…four times a day.  Cleo, the cat, eats her meals in my bedroom.  Yesterday morning, I awoke to the sound of Cleo puking on the bedroom floor.  I was startled, however, by the awful smell.  Surely, Cleo’s vomit couldn’t smell to awful?  I noticed the laundry basket was on its side.  I thought, “No, way.  My little princess couldn’t have…”  A sniff confirmed the truth.  Cleo had left a sock incrusted pile of poop in my laundry basket.  Hiss!

Here’s Cleo playing in a shopping bag (not said laundry basket.)

So, I cleaned up the poop and the barf, started the washing machine, got ready to jump back into bed.  But guess what?  Ote, cat number two, had done a number two on my pillow…

I change umpteen diapers a day, pick up Dana dog poop, scoop the litter box…but this is just more crap than a mama can handle!

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