There have been numerous cat-poop-discovered-in-inappropriate-locations-type events at my house. Lots of cats means lots of poop. Things happen. No shocker there.
Alas, these incidents have been increasing in both frequency and severity as the feline multitudes haul their increasingly manky and malicious asses into their Golden Years.
Last night's event, however, reached a new pinnacle of spitefulness. Upon returning home from a relaxing evening of pizza eating and Design on a Dime viewing at The Trainable's house, I was preparing to settle into bed for a bit of reading.
When I pulled back the covers and started getting situated, I was delighted to find a lovely little surprise from The Poop Fairy.
Cat poop. In my bed. Under my pillow. Awesome.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Any suspects?
On behalf of Jon I will say, "cat-free bedroom--it's the way to go!"
My recent 20lb, orange, mew mew, f*^%ing nocturnal feline acquisition has taught me a lot about this. I now understand why rational people DO NOT adopt giant long hair doo dooers. Litter box + extremely fuzzy pants = undesireable kitty hind end accessories. Yikes!
Post a Comment