My wife is away for a while, being a grandma to Iliana. That would be fine with me, for a little bit at any rate, but our cat is not taking it well. The evil cat does not like change. On Saturday night, she leapt into our bed while I was sleeping, snuggled down in Mary’s spot, and then at 3am started horking up vomit all over the sheets.
So last night I banished her from the bedroom altogether. The whole rest of the house was hers to possess.
I get up this morning to find…
She had puked in the hallway.
She had barfed in the bathroom.
She had ralphed in the dining room.
She had upchucked in the kitchen. The kitchen was her masterpiece — she had tossed her cookies and then gone back to her full food bowl, chowed down on it, and then heaved up the barely digested contents of her guts all over the place.
I know it’s not pleasant to read about, but pity me, who has to clean it all up.
I guess I know which human in our household she misses the most.