Posts tagged poop
Well, we had a bit of a catastrophe yesterday.
It started in the afternoon. Nathan and I had just gotten home from a busy day out when I had to use the bathroom. I was in there for less than five minutes. When I came out, Nathan was playing with his brand new firetruck in his bedroom.
I smelled poop. And it wasn’t Nathan’s.
So I cautiously peeked my head out of Nathan’s bedroom into the kitchen and lo-and-behold! There was a big ole clump of poop SMEARED into the kitchen floor. My cat ANDREW had taken a dump in the floor, and NATHAN HAD PLAYED IN IT, dragging it about 2 feet, leaving a trail of smeared poop glistening on the floor.
Furious, I broke out the Clorox and cleaned it up. Afterward, I went into the living room for some relaxation. To my utter horror, however, THERE WAS MORE CAT POOP SMEARED ALL OVER THE COFFEE TABLE. And a 4″ poop log sitting defiantly on the floor next to the coffee table. Furious does not even begin to describe how I felt. I was utterly LIVID. I am a huge animal lover. HUGE. I donate to animal-welfare charities. I cry when I see dead animals on the side of the road. But for a moment, as rage coursed through my quivering veins, I wanted to hurl Andrew outside and let him fend for himself against the road. Or cook him in a pot of stew.
I’m sick and tired of dealing with this. It is not a medical issue, as I initially thought it was. Andrew is jealous of Nathan and I think he’s depressed. See, I feel guilty because before I got married and had a kid, I treated that cat like he was my child. I doted on him. I was one of “those” people who irritatingly treats their pets like a human. But now? I still love him just the same, only I don’t have the time to give him the same amount of attention that I used to. I still love on him, but only for five minutes at a time. I still have conversations with him, but after a while the incessant meowing (he is quite the conversationalist, believe me) can become irritating when I am dealing with a screaming toddler. I have been trying so hard to dote on him like I used to… and for about three weeks, it worked. He was pooping outside the litter box up to 5x a day… and with all the extra time-consuming affection I gave him, he went for THREE WEEKS without a single accident. But now? Now, my schedule has gotten busier, and the love I was showing him is now no longer enough. He follows me around like a lost puppy dog, his sad little eyes staring at me, wishing me to love him.
I can’t get him to understand that I DO LOVE HIM, but he is making it VERY hard to love when I’m cleaning up his poop multiple times a day. I don’t want him around me right now. I have to grit my teeth just to extend my hand to him. I’m SICK of this, and my toddler playing in his angry poop pile is the LAST straw!
And it gets worse. So after I cleaned up the coffee table, I grabbed Nathan to clean him up, change his clothes, and check his hands.
His hands were clean, except for some minute traces of poop.
You know what that means, right? I can’t even think about it at this point. I took him into the bathroom and washed his hands FIVE times for a minute each time, then sanitized his hands twice. And when I was done, his hands still smelled of cat shit.
Afterwards, Nathan was playing with his firetruck all over the house, and every time he walked past me, I got a whiff of poop. Nathan had a clean diaper. I checked his body, no poop. His hands still smelled faintly of poop, but not enough for me to notice unless I specifically smelled his hands. Paul and I were quite befuddled as we tried to ascertain from where the odor was originating.
And then we saw it.
IT WAS CAKED ALL OVER HIS FIRETRUCK WHEELS.
My son had rolled his BRAND NEW firetruck through Andrew’s poop. That’s where the smears came from. It never crossed my mind that Nathan would use a toy to roll through the poop. And then Nathan had rolled the poop-caked wheels ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE.
So guess what we did all evening? Cleaned the carpets, furniture, mopped the floors, and sanitized all surfaces that may have come into contact with that firetruck.
I’m STILL pissed. For once, I am at a loss trying to articulate the depth of the anger I feel towards that cat. Enough is enough. I can’t have my child playing in SHIT. And I would have more compassion if Andrew was sick or needed medical attention, but to cause potential harm to my child because the attention I have been giving him was not good enough is UNACCEPTABLE.
I’m going to have to figure out what to do about this. What a shame. I love that cat… he was my baby. I loved him more than any other cat I’ve ever known. He was so cool, so full of personality. Everyone who has ever met him has commented on how awesome he was. But this acting out can’t be tolerated. I don’t know what to do short of either putting him on antidepressants (how weird would that be?) or giving him away… but who’s gonna want a cat with poop problems? I don’t know if anyone would want to adopt him. He needs someone who can devote a lot of time and attention to him, something I don’t have. I don’t *want* to give him away, and I certainly don’t want to put him to sleep. But I don’t know what other options I have.
So if you have pets, please take this into consideration if you are considering having kids. If you baby your pet too much, it could very well come back to haunt you.
It has been a hectic weekend yet again here!
So Paul and I had another date night Friday night, which was really nice. Nathan stayed with Paul’s parents and I’m not even kidding when I say the child enjoyed every single minute of his time with his them. See, the last time they watched Nathan was about three months ago, and Nathan started to get sick that day. Do you know what it’s like to have a sick toddler? For all the parents out there, I’m sure you are all too familiar with it. For those of you who don’t have kids, let me tell you that a sick toddler is the worst. Especially when they can’t talk yet and tell you where they hurt. So both Nathan and Nathan’s Grandma were crying… it was such a bad experience for both of them. Because of that, I was EXTRA happy that this last visit went without a hitch; Nathan played and played and played some more outside, dug around in the flower beds, rode in a wagon, played in water dripping off the roof, took a bath, and even gnawed on a potato that he insisted was a ball. Needless to say, the kid was doted on, and let me tell you, he was totally LOVING IT.
Meanwhile, Paul and I went out to eat a nice Italian restaurant. We gobbled up our food and enjoyed a few drinks. However, a couple days prior to our date, my allergies started acting up in a way that they hadn’t done in years, since I was a kid. My nose was completely stuffed up, so much so that my sinuses, eyes, and head would throb anytime I sat down. So I sounded quite nasal as I ordered my food and felt as if my eyeballs would explode out of their sockets as I ate the food that I could barely taste.
Then Paul and I decided to play some pool, one of our favorite things to do when we get a kid-free night. An hour or so after we started playing, though, I felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. To my complete and utter horror, as I was using the bathroom, I USED THE BATHROOM. As in, my stomach was upset and was letting me know in no uncertain terms.
To spare you guys the gory details, let’s just say I was thanking my lucky stars that the music in the ladies’ room was blaring on a level loud enough to pop eardrums. THANK YOU, God, for small favors, huh?
I ended up being stuck in the bathroom 5 or 6 times that night.
It was awful.
Couple that with throbbing sinuses and a severely stuffy nose and you have something akin to pure misery.
Fortunately, things got better after I took some over-the-counter medication the next day. But on the hour-and-fifteen minute drive to Paul’s parents’ house to pick up Nathan, I developed a CRAMP IN MY BUTT CHEEK from trying to hold it as long as I could! I finally made it to a gas station and let me tell you, you should have seen the look on the lady’s face at the register. I ran into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later to purchase the medicine. After I paid, she was staring at me so hard that I actually got a little flustered, and in an attempt to divert her unflinching gaze away from me, I nodded to the receipt machine and asked if I needed to sign the receipt.
“No,” she replied flatly as she handed me the receipt. I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I made a speedy exit. I guess some people are completely unaware of how they come across to others… either that, or they are just plain strange. I’m going with both.. this woman seemed totally NUTZO.
Anyway, things have settled down here. Nathan is back into his little routine and Paul has returned to work. As much as I enjoy dates with my husband, I’m hoping we don’t have another date-night like that for a long, long time.
Oh man. What a weekend.
So Friday night, my cat Andrew (who has been having issues with pooping outside the litter box) decided to take a dump in the kitchen. So I come trotting through the kitchen and guess what I did?
I STEPPED RIGHT IN IT.
With my bare feet.
And it squished up through MY TOES.
I didn’t even feel it until I had taken a couple of steps, leaving poop-footprints in my wake. And he must have JUST done it because the smell didn’t hit me yet. In fact, when I looked down and saw poop in between my toes, I thought to myself, there’s no way. There is no way I just stepped in a pile of crap. It was the most disgusting thing ever, let me tell you.
So fast forward to yesterday morning. Andrew (I assume) had left me two poop piles near the litter boxes, one of those had been anointed with a drizzle of pee. So cleaning all that up put me in an irritable mood, as I’m sure you would be to if you had been dealing with this for some time. I was now running a little late for church. So then, after I got it all cleaned up and put in a plastic bag, I walked to the door to put it outside when Andrew starts meowing at me, wanting me to love on him.
I was like, how dare you meow to be petted after pooping outside your litter box!
So I swatted at him with the poop bag.
But instead of swatting the cat, I managed to swat the wall. And it hit the wall JUST RIGHT. Because the angle where it made contact with the wall was perfect; the bag of poop freaking EXPLODED. It got all over the wall, all over the blinds, all over the curtains, the recliner, the window sill, the floor, and all over ME. Hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny poop particles flew EVERWHERE. So then I start crying. I was mad at Andrew, but mostly, I was mad at myself for letting myself get so irritated.
Then Paul comes out of the bathroom as is all like, Ewww what is that smell?
And then he sees the poop explosion. And you know what he does? He takes his church clothes off and tells me to go on to church- he’ll clean up the mess. What a wonderful guy! So I cleaned up, changed my clothes, and went on to church. But I felt horrible the entire time… since I was running so late, I left Nathan at home with Paul because I didn’t have time to get him ready. So because of me, they both had to miss out on church.
LESSON LEARNED, Lord. Lesson learned.
I love my cats, but they are driving me CRAZY. Two of them, Meeper and Andrew, have started this annoying moew-fest late at night. As in, two or three o’clock in the morning. Their howling wakes me up and makes me so mad I could practically dive-bomb through the wall. But alas, I am lazy, so the best I can do when I am that tired is hiss a lethargic “Quiet, cats!” at them. They’ll usually stop for a few minutes and then the ruckus starts all over again. And, to top it off, Andrew (who is my baby) is having serious behavioral problems. I don’t know if he’s acting out because he wants more attention or what, but he keeps pooping in the floor. Fortunately, so far it’s only been in front of the litter boxes on the tile, so it’s not too bad to clean up. But still. Who wants to clean up cat poop?? NOT ME. I’m so fed up. It’s completely ridiculous and I am at my wit’s end… nothing I do helps. I try to dote on him, and he still poops on the floor. I’ve also tried taking him to his Poop Pile and flicking his ear, telling him “No! Bad!” and that doesn’t work either. I love my cats, especially Andrew, but I DO NOT love cleaning up his poop. So this behavior has to change, and it has to change NOW.
Neither cat used to meow late at night before our cat Turbo passed away in September, so I wonder if they are missing him. And prior to Turbo’s passing, Andrew had never pooped outside the litter box. He started after Turbo died, but we thought it was because we bought new litter boxes. Since then, his pooping problem has been sporadic, and it seemed like he only did it when he wanted attention. But for the past few days, it’s been DAILY. And now I want to pull my hair out.
ARG! (Yes, I just emitted pirate-speak. Which is what happens when you have cleaned up one too many piles of poop!)