Friday, January 20, 2012

Help Save the Couch

Right now at my house we are in the middle of a war. And we are losing. But we shall not go down without a fight. We shall not go down quietly. We shall not go down with out taking 2 cats with us. 

Suspect #1
aka: Fatty, Fatty Fatty 2x4, Fat Momma
Suspect #2
aka: The Devil, Satan
The issue is cat pee. Cat pee on the leather couch that has now been hauled off by Goodwill. Cat pee on the leather chairs that my friend Nathan now has in his sun room. Cat pee on our brand new love seat from IKEA. It seems once they pee on something once, they can't stop. Kind of like what happens when I eat a cheeto. If you have had a cat pee anywhere, then you know why this is such a problem. I would much rather have a person peeing all over my house than a cat. Its a nightmare. The stink is ungodly. Literally. It is the wee-wee of Lucifer. We have tried everything. Spray that is supposed to be a deterrent. Aluminum foil on the furniture. Cleaning the litter box constantly. Seriously, their potty area is way cleaner than ours. We even have a plug-in that releases calming cat pheromones to relax them. I don't understand what they have to be stressed abou tin the first place. They have everything they could want at their beck and paw (see what I did there?). I also gave them a stern lecture peppered with words like "pound" "murder" "or else" and "please stop." They blinked. Seriously. They just stared at me and blinked. Jerks. 

If only they could read.
I have cried over this. CRIED. My cats came with me to the marriage. I like to think of them as a dowry the groom did not want. Said groom reminds me of that on a daily basis. One of them has been doing this tinkling on the furniture, and we don't know which one. All we know if it is definitely of the feline variety. I love cats, hubs tolerates cats. The other day I took Lady Baby to see the animals at Petsmart and I wanted to take like three of the cats home. If it wasn't for my husband, here to save me from myself, I would be a cat lady. I do not (said emphatically) want any more cats. Yet, I see them and I immediately want them. It is a sickness. When I am old, please, send someone to check on me regularly. Otherwise it will get really Grey Gardens up in here. Lots of crap and lots of cats. There was an old lady mooning over the kitties who said she already had four at home. It was like looking at future me. Maybe it was future me. Hmmm. I will file that away to think about when I am supposed to be listening to something else.
I am so going to rock a turban.
I would love suggestions of how to get a cease and desist on the whizzing. Please refrain from any advice that involves animal cruelty. Trust me, those ideas have already been explored. Someone *may* have even googled "faking cat's suicide." (Sidenote: Don't bother with that search. The interwebs is lacking info on this particular subject.)

Help save a couch, two cats and a marriage. I don't think all four are going to make it out of this smelling fresh.


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