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!