I was welcomed home this evening by the biggest stench you can imagine. Wait, don’t imagine it – I want you to have a happy life instead. Nah- go ahead: Imagine canned cat food and rancid garbage with a just a hint of cat pee, because that’s exactly what it was.
First floor stink: Pfennig has been slowly wasting away these past months, so to get her to eat I’ve been giving them canned cat food, which completely stinks on its own, so I always have smelly cat-food-slimed bowls sitting in my dishwasher waiting for a cycle. Bleh. Plus, I actually cooked this weekend so there were food scraps in the trash that stunk. (Not the compost stuff.) Plus, I had left the trash cabinet door open and that accounted for 40% of the stink in the air.
Second floor stink: The other 60% is accounted for by the fact that someone peed in my closet, probably last night. Cat pee festering all day in a hot house makes for a barfy Lauren. I’m pretty sure Lloyd didn’t do it, so it must have been a cat.
Since our directions to Brad (when we were in Missouri) said to do away with the cats if any toileting was done anywhere other than a litter box, we come to a bit of a crossroads. Either the pee-er has to go or we have to move to another house.
I am fairly sure it was Pfennig.
Or Cricket.
Fifty-fifty.