Someone barfed in my pants, and it wasn’t me.
In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set.
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Reproductive Health Matters
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In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set.
Someone barfed in my pants, and it wasn’t me.
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All you got was barf? You’re so lucky.
This time.
I stepped in cat barf yesterday in stockinged feet. Gotta love em. Ew.
Ew.
My cat once decided a left suede boot was a suitable yarf target.
Nothing on the right boot, just the left one.
I hope it wasn’t political commentary.
Most recently, our cat left a dismembered cricket in one of my shoes as a token of her affection. Nothing beats the story I was once told of a cat, who after catching and beheading a mouse, generously took the juicier, meatier hind portion up to her sleeping person. Said person wasn’t very responsive, but had fallen asleep with her hand dangling palm-up out of the bed, so the cat kindly placed the dripping mouse into it and gently nudged the fingers closed over it to keep it in place.
As I understand it, the poor cat was quite distraught by the resulting screams.
Someone had diarrhea all over my bedroom carpet and it wasn’t me.
I plan to hijack a carpet cleaner today.
I’m still scarred from the time I found puke all over a bunch of books I had piled on the floor near my overflowing bookshelves. Why?! Why did you have to puke right there!?
Were you wearing the pants at the time? Because that would really suck.
My cat finds a way to somehow get litter/urine/poop between the layers of her litter box. I had one of those round Booda pans – urine on the outside where the liner extended past the lid. Latest cat box is one she enters from the top that has a puppy pad at the bottom to catch anything that makes it through the liner that runs up entire sides of box to the top lid. Yesterday found all sorts off mess under the bottom pad b/c she managed to pull all the layers apart. Sigh.
Worst moment for my father: cat decided to crap in one of his shoes. He didn’t notice until after he attempted to put it on.
Worst moment for me: a kitten we had taken in had a bladder infection and was urinating in odd places. One night, he jumped up on the bed, climbed atop my chest, turned and sprayed me in the face.
Yes, I still have the cat with me, but I was none too happy at the time.
Years ago, my friend’s cat gave birth to her kittens in his sweater drawer.
This summer, my cat brought me home a week old squirrel that must have fallen out of it’s nest. She didn’t harm it, but left it on the floor in front of my fridge. It’s the thought that counts, I guess.
One of my first cats tried to yarf on my face while I was sleeping. Fortunately his glug glug noises woke me up and I caught it in my hand just in time.
Is it wrong of me to have snickered all the way through this thread? Would it be less wrong if I owned or was owned by a pet of my own and therefore had my own pet bodily fluid stories to tell?
on your face?!! cats are jerks
oh god…all those are too funny
there’s nothing like walking into a dark room and feeling cold dead lizard on your barefeet
or the sight of cleaned sheets hot out of the dryer
newly anointed with kitty puke
or waking up in the morning still dreaminig of kissing the puckered lips of a loved one
only to realize it’s cat butt in your face
aah I love my kitties
When I was in High School, I adopted a kitten from a friend. After discovering his nocturnal tendencies, I promptly began sleeping with my door shut. In response, he would take large, liquid dumps right outside my door usually just before I would get up in the morning. Waking up to warm, wet, squishiness between the toes as you stagger to the bathroom is not fun.
Other than that, there was the cat I was taking care of for a friend who had diarrhea and proceeded to release it while running pel mel around my apartment…including on the bed. That took far too long to clean up…then kitty got to have a bath since he’d also gotten it all over himself.
One of my cats, Gabby, likes to pee in my guest bathroom sink, so I have to cover it up with a decorative cutting board, thus confusing my guests into thinking the faucet doesn’t work. This is the same cat who brings live chipmunks into my house for me to chase around. Gotta love her.
And then there was the morning where I had both a houseguest and a tenant as well as spouse and kids and I….I have long hair, and apparently the cat had eaten one of the hairs, resulting in the lovely “chain of beads” effect to his poop. Which meant the poor fellow went in the box, went, and the poop wouldn’t let go of him. He spazzed out, of course, and went racing through the house mewing frantically, and the houseguest and I were torn between laughing so hard our bellies hurt and trying to catch him before he made any bigger mess.
She was also there as a witness the day the same cat farted in his own face while he was washing up.
*quietly giggling and can’t stop*
I’m laughing with you, really! My cat is a binge-and-purger, so I’m allowed!
Wow, have I got the only cats on the planet who don’t do things like that? My two generally manage to throw up on the floor rather than the rug, where it’s easier to clean up. What can I say, they’re good.
I did once years ago have a cat (not my own) crap on the middle of my bedspread once, but that was because my mom locked him upstairs because he was yowling. Turned out he’d been accidentally shut out of the cellar where the litterbox is and was yowling because he really had to go. He was pretty ticked off and decided to take it out on my bedspread, in the absolute exact center (he must have sighted the bedposts diagonally to find it). It struck me as a political statement, and anyway I couldn’t really blame him. Of course I made my mom clean it up, and gave her a lecture about listening to the cat to boot.
We had another cat who got locked out of the cellar and had to pee. When we ignored her and she couldn’t hold it any more, she chose the bathtub. The non-absorbent, easily cleaned bathtub. She was really a kind soul.
Have I ever blogged about poop circles? Oh yes, I have.
Oh my. I’m laughing so hard tears have come to my eyes.
And I have a 16-year-old cat who, in the last year, started regularly pissing on our bed or laundry. Thank gd for enzyme-cleansers and a washer&dryer in our unit…
I have two cats, one a drop-off when she was pregnant and the other, her one offspring. Both are characters with similar behaviors as described.
But nothing beats the horror of one holiday weekend about ten years ago. I owned a Great Dane in a small five bedroom apartment. Around thanksgiving, my then best friend’s house had burned down and she needed a temporary home for her 10 mos. old, newly acquired and poorly disciplined Doberman. I volunteered to take him in.
Well, one very cold Friday night I left the dogs in the house loose (the dobie had a crate) and had to skip out to run an errand. When I came home about an hour later, the house was dark and cold and smelled like a sewer. Unable to turn on the lights and seeing the darkness in the neighborhood, I surmised another winter power outage. The thermostat wouldn’t kick on the furnace either.
One step forward into the kitchen from the entry caused a slide that nearly took me down. I walked again and again, I slipped on something oozy on the floor. Once I got a candle from the kitchen cupboard and lit it, I made the discovery: Doggie diarrhea all over the apartment, not just in the kitchen, but on the rugs, in the living room and any other room that was open.
Try cleaning up your house from a literal shit storm, during a storm in a freezing, dark apartment with barely any light, enough methane to render you nearly unconcious and the most obnoxiously hyper animal in the world standing on your once beloved couch with his shit-shod feet barking non stop. It was a night I’ll never forget. Big dogs, big messes.
I have no doubt it all came about because I bought a different brand of dog food than their usual, dogs don’t take change of diet too well.
My boyfriend’s cat (also named Gabby) decided last night that The Thing To Do for Thanksgiving 2K6 was to pee in my luggage. We aren’t going on a trip, or packing, or anything. She just decided that was what needed to be done. Gabby has also been known to pee in our laundry sink, so maybe it’s the name.
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