Well, They Showed ME!

Last night, to conserve the heat, I got the cats in the bedroom and shut the door.

And so we spent the night, till dawn approached and Huw was scratching from the inside to get out and Llewellyn the dog was scratching from the outside to get in.

Sorry, kids, I'll get up and open the door when the clock radio comes on and not a minute sooner.

So in the fullness of time I did. I made my morning ablutions and dressed, and, it being a bit chilly, I started to put on a cardigan I had lying there in the bedroom.

The cardie was cold. Not surprising.

The cardie was wet. What?

The cardie was so wet, it was getting the clothes I had on wet.

It was wet and stinky.

Cat pee!

Somebody can't hold his water overnight! Either that, or somebody's getting revenge for being made to stay in the bedroom all night.

(Huw, I'm looking at you.)

Well, so much for wearing that cardie today. Or the turtleneck I'd put on under it. Got them both out of there, but the bedroom still stunk. And I could not recall where the sweater had been lying when I picked it up.

Awkward.

Stripped the bed. No evidence of cat pee anywhere on it.

Remade the bed. Room still smelled of cat pee.

Decided I was imagining things, till later this afternoon when I checked the throw cushion on a wooden chair that sits in the corner of the bedroom. Yep, there's the stain. And the smell. Cover and cushion, there's more for the laundry! There was a cardboard calendar on top of it. More stink. That's for the outside trash.

I believe-- I hope-- the bedroom has been exorcised. But when it comes to my little spooks (Huw, I'm still looking at you), tonight I guess I'd better leave them a way out.

They obviously showed me.

Not Such a Good Idea

What, pray tell, is that?

Dear reader, you well may ask.

Is it a blanket for a late-season picnic? A quick and easy way to kill the grass for a new garden bed? An insidious pattern fungus growing in my back yard?

No, it's the wet memory foam mattress topper from my own little bed. And it's the sign and evidence of an experiment gone wrong, of an idea Whose Time Had Not Yet Come.

Yesterday I did the wash. Rhadwen and her predecessor Didon always derived great amusement from "helping" me fold the laundry. Let's see if the kittens will like it, too!

So I brought them individually into the front bedroom, where I was working. Gwenith and Huw liked that. But I noticed they were more interested in the room than in diving under the sheets and towels and T-shirts.

Hey . . . Why not let both of them sleep in my room? It'd expand their territory and get them more familiar to this part of the house. True, that meant closing the door to keep out the dog and Rhadwen the big cat, but if they needed to pee or poo, they'd let me know, right?

Gwenith and Huw had a field day-- or night. Wonderful places to jump and climb and tunnel through! Unlimited fun with mirrors, windows, curtains, and bed rails! The frolic went on far past lights out.

But eventually all subsided into silence and sleep . . .

. . . . Until the dawn's early light, when I was roused by the sound of kitty claws going scritch, scritch, scritch in the sheet next to my shoulder. Simultaneously, I became aware of a strange wetness on the sheet, on my nightclothes, on me! The air was filled with the delicate odor of kitten pee, and my now wide-open eyes beheld no kittens on the bed, but a rapidly-spreading wet spot right next to me on what had been the clean white sheets.

Oh, p----! I guess they are too young to let me know when they need to go!

Instantaneous leap to action! Get the kittens back to their own room and their own litter box! Get out of the wet nightclothes! Strip the bed! Rinse out the mattress topper in the bathtub! Take a shower! Put the soaked bedding in the washer! Hurry, hurry, hurry!

So that's why the foam topper is out in the backyard killing the grass and theoretically getting dry. It'll be awhile, so I'll be bunking in the Kitten Room until future notice.