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Ah, the joys of pet ownership [Jul. 20th, 2007|09:48 am]
So I come home yesterday afternoon; thankfully I had a poop bag in my pocket (empty!) so I could take care of the disemboweled vole that Mamacat left for me on the front walk and while I was at it, kicked the hairball she'd vomited onto the front stoop off into the bushes.

My task is to wash the dogs. Complicated by finding that Percy, hearing or thinking he heard thunder, tried his damndest to break down the gate on the stairs, failing, but leaving copious amounts of blood on the stairs, dripping down the wall, dripping down the bannister, up on the ceiling...although by now the toe and his nose have stopped bleeding, apparently he was able to staunch the flow on my duvet cover.

And Willow, hyped up by Percy's hysteria, has taken a giant whizz on the bedroom floor.

So, a bottle of nature's miracle (for the pee), a fresh batch of Oxyfresh (for the blood), and a roll of paper towels later... (I know, I could be one of those people who clean up after murders, except it would be too much like being at home.) I'm ready to wash the dogs.

Which I do, and by the end of it, they're both shaking ('cause it's outside, involves the garden hose and they both hate water...and Percy feels an imminent thunderstorm) and near hysterical so I want to go for a walk to calm them down. I run in for fresh (empty) poop bags and out of the corner of my eye, I see Pushkin in the living room beginning the Hurka-Gurka. But, I take the coward's way out and run out the door anyway, because Percy is now working himself into hysterics that it's going to thunder, he's alone AND wet. And decide to pick up the shampoo, hose, towels, brushes, when I get back.

My captain loves me. While we were walking, he picked up the bath stuff, cleaned up the cat vomit, thereby noticing the trash can full of bloody paper towels and didn't even call the police.

[User Picture]From: thatliardiego
2007-07-20 02:02 pm (UTC)
And to that that on that moving day, when I was talking about there being an abattoir in your basement, I was joking.
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[User Picture]From: sestree
2007-07-20 02:06 pm (UTC)
He probably just thought it was another person asking what you felt about the school system or health care or aluminum siding.

What is it about greyhounds where they bleed like a stuck pig on a scratch?

((reminding myself I'm glad I have cats I'm glad I have cats cats don't need baths))
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[User Picture]From: pyllgrum
2007-07-20 04:36 pm (UTC)
Smelly cat, smelly cat
What are they feeding you?
Smelly cat, smelly cat
It's not your fault

They won't take you to the vet
You're obviously not their favourite pet
You may not be a bed of roses

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[User Picture]From: sestree
2007-07-20 04:41 pm (UTC)
If you think they need a bath YOU give it to them.

I'll call terribleturnip for crime scene cleanup ....
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[User Picture]From: pyllgrum
2007-07-20 05:06 pm (UTC)
I was thinking we could use the cat-washer in the downstairs powder room; you know, the white porcelain one.
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[User Picture]From: pyllgrum
2007-07-20 02:46 pm (UTC)
(I know, I could be one of those people who clean up after murders, except it would be too much like being at home.)

If you did cross-stitching, this would make a truly bizarre sampler.
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[User Picture]From: mistressfetch
2007-07-20 04:07 pm (UTC)
See, when people ask me "Why don't you have Greyhounds of your own?" I'm going to refer them to this post :-) hehehehe

awwwww the highest compliment a cat can pay "disembowled mole"..good kitty...:-)

Here is a story for you : In the new house I ripped up all the carpets. I have beautiful wood floors now. Well, beautiful when they are refinished..but I digress...aaannywho...I have gotten some area rugs for the floor. The area rug in my garb room is about a 5x8. I hear the "noise", you know, the ack ack ack noise and saw Little Man RUNNING at top speed up the stairs to get to my garb room to yack on the 5x8 rug..I have now "officially" given up!!!!
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From: pyrateatlarge
2007-07-20 09:16 pm (UTC)
singing "love. . . . exciting and new. . . . . . "
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