Frankly, I am not an admirer of the cat. I am an avid dog person and I feel that makes up for my lack of feelings for cats. They just have so much disdain for their owners, and human beings in general. I care about cats about as much as they care about me.
So, you can imagine my horror when I was visiting my grandson, Max, and I inadvertently rolled in cat pee.
Yup, I did.
Max invited me into his tent to cuddle and read books and as I crawled in I put my hand in something wet. Then I sniffed my fingers and smelled the excruciatingly rank odor of cat pee. (Obviously, if I could go back in time, I WOULD NOT SNIFF MY FINGERS. But, if I am reliving moments, I would not crawl into the tent in the first place.)
With cat-like reflexes, I leaped nimbly out of the tent and threw myself, and my wool Michael Kors sweater into the nearest sink and began scrubbing frantically. I really hoped Max was okay, but I couldn't stop to check. BECAUSE THERE WAS CAT URINE ON ME.
Guess what? People don't actually die after they roll in cat pee. This is an urban myth. You do smell like death and it can encourage violent tendancies towards any cats in your general vicinity, but you don't literally die.You may really want to strangle any cat you see. Or blow them all up, or something.
Oh, chill out, PETA. I'm exaggerating for the sake of the story. Not about the pee, just about what I would do to any cats. I wouldn't really harm them.
At least not so you could prove.
So,putting on my brave face and smelling faintly of cat, I headed out to meet up with my friend Jen. Jen loves cats, and was kind. She kept insisting she couldn't smell it. But I think that was because she wouldn't come within 10 feet of me. And she has a chronic sinus infection.. And she kept her face averted and both hands covering her nose all evening.
You do what you gotta do. I get it.
(side note: for those of you wondering why in tarnation I didn't just remove the cat urine sweater, I had a fashion conundrum. I was wearing skinny jeans, which I shouldn't be wearing, but covering up with the bigger, longer sweater. I obviously couldn't take it off and be seen in public. And I was 40 miles from home. It was a dilemma. Clearly, it was more important for me to look a certain way than to smell a certain way. I have my standards.)
I was not finished with felines yet. The next day, Rod took Cooper in to get groomed. He came back home with this.
I am just telling people he is a Lion Doodle. (Please do not feel sorry for Cooper. He seems to like his new 'do and he doesn't get the house all muddy like he did before. Now just Rod and I do.)
Yesterday, I was getting ready to go to bible study and I had decided to wear my favorite sweater du jour. I bought it right before the holiday season because I liked the abstract print, the fit and the kicky fringe.I am a sucker for the fringe. I wear it all the time. It is also long and covers my mid section which, hello, is a plus. Here is a picture of the sweater. Cute right?
So, as I'm doing my hair in the bathroom yesterday, I felt kind of creepy-crawly, like someone was watching at me. I had to stare for a full minute before my mind accepted what my eyes were telling me.
I was wearing a cat sweater.
Let's pause right there for effect.
The cat was there all along, just waiting to pounce. It stayed hidden during church and trips to the grocery store. It crouched there silently all Christmas Eve, watching and waiting as we feasted and exchanged gifts.
I just never saw it. And neither did anyone else, apparently. At least they didn't say anything. Maybe they just assumed I was the kind of person who wears a cat sweater to Christmas gatherings.
And I can't tell you how much that hurts.
I am the crazy cat lady. I just didn't know it.