So I accidentally stepped into my own poo the other morning as I was exiting my litterbox, which made my humans very excitable when they woke up and discovered little smelly paw prints tracked all over the kitchen floor.
You'd have thought the end of the world was nigh, the way they over reacted. There was a little too much dramatic wailing, cursing and gnashing of teeth for my liking. I sat and watched as they hauled out the buckets, mops and disinfectants, and although I wore my best innocent face, they somehow knew it was my doing (or pooing, if you will). I decided it might be in my best interest to hide.
Mysteriously, they were able to track my whereabouts with great ease, and the next thing I knew, I was being carried outside by Softie while the British One filled up a bucket of hot, soapy water. Obviously they had something wicked on their minds, and I wriggled and struggled to break free, to no avail.
Softie passed me over to the British One, who held me in his arms like a squirming baby. Just as I was beginning to calm down and enjoy the attention, Softie began wiping my back paws with a rough, wet cloth.
I kicked, I struggled, I cried. In an effort to keep my paws away from the damp rag, I even tried to burrow myself into the British One's shirtsleeve, which was quite impossible since I was lying flat out on my back. But Softie was very determined, and I concluded that it might be a good time to go into Zen-kitty mode. So I did. I let her wash my back paw, and then she rubbed the cloth on my other paw, evidently in an effort to add to the injustice already being served.
And just when I thought the humiliation was finally over, she brought out the dreaded scissors and clipped the fur from between my paw pads! I didn't enjoy it in the slightest, and Zen-kitty morphed into Thrashabout-kitty. Although she managed to clip a few small clumps from between my toes, I'm pleased to note that Thrashabout-kitty prevailed and I was set free. I shall file that little nugget away for future use.
Annoyingly, I now suffer the ignominy of being called "Stinkfoot" by my humans. How rude!
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1 comment:
oh nick, i know just how you feel. but it was so overly melodramatic of your humans though.
your paw, my butt... when my dirty butt is discovered too late, my human has to go around looking for all the spots where i have sat down. sometimes the sheets come off, the sofa covers (now there are towels too).
i only sit on a few spots on the wood floor so my human just gets the paper towel and spray out.
but, oh such indignity. they should put a bath mat near your litter too now...
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