Cat Diary

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may recall that from time to time, I have to take Gracie into the vet to have her rear end shaved down. (I once told them to "shave her ass," and they almost gave her a lion cut before the tech questioned it.)

Today was one of those days. I got her carrier out last night. She was fine for the morning; she laid next to me on the couch as I ate breakfast and watched the tape of the Daily Show. I then went to my bedroom and the bathroom to get ready for the day. When I came out, she was out of sight and the spot she had been laying on was warm. I found her, crated her up and took her to the vet's office. They put her in a cage and gave me back the carrier.

Nine hours later, I came out to my car, opened the door and was assaulted by the reek of cat piss. Gracie had peed in the carrier (I have a piddle pad in it) and I didn't notice it in the morning. So I drove over to the dumpster, dumped the pad into the dumpster, wiped the carrier out with tissue, then wiped it again with a tissue that had been soaked with windshield washer fluid, wiped that out, put in a new piddle pad and off it was to the vet's office to pick up a thoroughly unhappy cat.

I sprayed a vanilla-based room freshener in my car after I got home.