Today I'm working from home, doing my thang, now that my computer is blissfully fixed (oh thank you Brian with desktop support, thank you, thank you, thank you). I was so intent on making up lost time that I immersed myself deeply in spreadsheets all morning, bringing you the editorial, help-related goodness that is my product or will be my product come next year. I was SO busy that I did not even notice the lack of a certain, smelly, needs-a-bath-and-butt-shave, long-haired cat named Bella, who usually attacks me the minute she realizes I'm staying home and snores next to me on the couch for hours. (Fringe benefit - she is so cute, my baby, yes she IS!)
Lunchtime rolled around. I went for a jog in the sweltering hot sun (yes, I am one of those people that you see jogging on a really humid day and want to pull over and yell ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE YOURSELF A HEART ATTACK?), then I came back and made a quick run to Blockbuster to return videos. All this activity must have shaken me out of my stupor.
When I got back home, I finally realized Bella was just...not around. I shook her treat bag. I called her name. I checked her favorite spot in the basement.
Then, I remembered.
Last night the little angel opened the door to the guest room for five minutes. I wasn't watching the door the entire time, but most of the time. That does not matter. Bella can turn herself invisible when she's interested in locking herself in a room for hours. She is a Super Friend.
That was, oh, 8 p.m.
Last night.
So I started shouting her name and bolting for the stairs. As I hit them, I heard her calling back to me, "Mommy! SAVE ME FROM THE WHEAT ROOM!" I opened the door, and Bella came shooting out like a rocket, delerious with joy. And yes, there was a large, round urine stain in the very center of the bedspread. Cat urine soaks through, oh, yes it does! Thank you, sweet Jesus, for not letting it hit the mattress.
Years ago, with Sybil, I used to freak out when she peed on a bed. Today, I resignedly stripped off the sheets and comforter, thought briefly about just throwing the comforter away (wasteful, not environmental, not cheap, but much, much easier) and threw the sheets on SANITARY in the washing machine, knowing full well that even if I kill the smell, the actual cat urine particle cells will still be there, lurking, just like nuclear waste. The Styrofoam of the urine world. And even if you or I can't smell them, Bella can. And she might think since she peed there before, what the hell? Doesn't add to her numbers.
So, my friends, if you notice that your beloved cat is just not around, heed your instincts! Investigate immediately. With Lysol.
And hope you don't have a vengeful cat.
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