Golden Showers.

It was a long weekend out here in the wilds of southeastern Pennsylvania.  Trying to pack up a second-floor bedroom in oppressive, furnace-like heat takes its toll on a person; eventually you just have to retreat back downstairs into the air conditioning to get some relief.  However, it’s hard to relax when you finally sit down only to realize that there’s cat pee raining from the ceiling.

Now, we live with six cats so we’re used to having to clean up the occasional litterbox mishap or stepping on some vile, wet spongy hairball in the middle of the night, but there is no dimension in the entire multiverse that having to dodge dripping cat urine is going to be normal.  Well, okay – if you adhere to the Many Worlds theory then there is by necessity a dimension where it’s a regular occurrence, but I’ll tell you right now that is one world that I am not tuning my wormhole emitter to visit.

The particular culprit last night was our cat Eden, a stray that we adopted several years ago.  She was a complete mess when we took her in – thin, sickly, covered in ticks, and incredibly skittish and distrusting – but she’s come a long way over the years.  Sure she may still sound like Phyllis Diller when she meows but she’s become an incrediblhy loving, happy cat that come to trust us implicitly, but for some reason she freaked the fuck out last night and pissed all over some dirty laundry on the second floor.

Truth be told, Eden does indeed have a bit of a urination problem from time to time in that she tends to miss our secondary litter box we have up there.  On top of that, she spends most of her time upstairs away from the other cats because she’s a bit older and kind of crotchety, so whenever there’s a mishap the end result is cat urine dripping down between the gaps in our bedroom floor – the cottage was built in 1820 and there’s no subfloor on the second floor,just loosely fitted floorboards.  This has sent urine dripping down our walls on many occasions.

However, this was nowhere near the litter box – it was on the other side of the room entirely.  Cats tend to pee like that only in a select few instances, such as when they’re stressed or not feeling well physically, but Eden has been acting perfectly fine other than this – she’s healthy, happy, and affectionate.

The most likely culprit is anxiety caused by the fact that we’ve been tearing the house apart for the past few weeks in an effort to get it all packed up.  She’s been with us through two moves already and can probably see the warning signs.  On top of that, there’s a new, strange hairless kitten in the house that’s taking up a large portion of our time and attention, and I’m sure that could play a role as well.  We’ve been making every effort to provide extra attention to our furry, four-legged children as well in the wake of our daughter’s birth, but things are still fundamentally different and cats aren’t exactly good with change.

Luckily it’s only going to be another few short weeks before the packing is done and we get out of this little cottage for good.  Up to greener pastures, where everything’s all on one level and the floors are actually sealed and there’s plenty of extra room for our cats to roam around.  Eden better clean up her act by then unless she wans to be made into a nice pair of fuzzy grey mittens.

Artist's rendition.

You smug motherfucker.

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4 thoughts on “Golden Showers.

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