We are now (I know I haven't mentioned this before) a one cat family. Blackfoot got one of those sudden unexplainable cat diseases and went less than a week later (about a month and a half ago), and then last week Gypsy, my poor three hundred year old cat, finally succumbed, after what I think must have been 22 years. This is sort of sad, but I think she was awfully, awfully tired.
So now I am left with Tarbaby, who is somewhat confused by the sudden lack of cats and is therefore very needy. I wouldn't mind this, but Tarbaby's form of needy requires him to maniacally wash my face at every possible moment...and he's got the worst cat food breath in the world. Not to mention the fact that when he starts on his nightly face washing routine, he cannot be deflected. If I stick my face under the covers, he proceeds to lick my head. If I could only train him to be a snuggle cat and you know, curl up next to me and purr or something, like a normal cat, he could be as needy as he likes...but no, he's not happy unless he's lapping madly away at my face. Do you think that a cat's tongue is good for exfoliation purposes? If it is, I could at least feel I was doing something for my complexion. God knows there are enough beauty products that smell just rank...hair dye springs immediately to mind here.
Tarbaby has another problem that is driving me completely up a wall, which is that for reasons best known to himself, he shits sideways. I cannot figure out why on earth he would do this, but he does. Instead of stepping into the middle of his nice clean cat box, with (now) tons of room in it, he balances on the edge and shits down the side of the box. Or else he gets into the box, but manages to turn himself around so that his ass is against the side of the box. You can just imagine what a true joy this little habit is at box cleaning time. Bleccch.
Oh, well, my poor lonely beast. I thought I might get him a kitten, but now that I think of it, he's not a very young cat himself (fifteen or so, I'm pretty sure), so I don't think this is the best idea.
Not to mention the fact that I'm quite sure Joshua would manage to step on a kitten. Joshua, you see, steps on everything. Sarah and Seth, God bless them, have been doing a spectacular job of cleaning Sarah's room (her grandmother is coming to stay overnight tomorrow en route from Geneva to Washington), and they have thrown out bags and bags and bags of stuff. So they brought all the garbage bags downstairs to be ready to go out tonight, i.e., garbage night, and Joshua was complaining that he was sure he was going to trip on the bags.
Right. 1. The kids left a nice clear path from the den to the kitchen and from the kitchen to the front door...plenty of room to move. 2. Joshua leaves the damn living room lights on all night - how on earth could anyone manage not to be able to see ten or twelve enormous black garbage bags? I don't think he's suddenly taken to wearing a black satin sleepmask or anything (or at least I sincerely hope not - he's weird enough now).
Just one of life's little mysteries, I guess - and the garbage has gone out anyway.