June 18, 2008 at 6:51 pm | Posted in WHY I AM CRABBY | 1 Comment

Okay, so here is the story of our EVIL cat, Rhett.Rhett

By fall of 2006, I had to accept the fact that there is a REASON for every home in Maine to contain at least one animal of the feline persuasion. WE GOT MICE! Icky, bold, dirty, disease-carrying mice were having their way with our home. They were running through the room while we were sitting on the couch watching TV. Traps and poisons were ineffective. They lined their nests with the poison and laughed at our puny efforts to rid ourselves of them. That fall we even had a family in our mailbox. EVERY day I would scoot them and their nest out of the box and EVERY day they would be back with a new nest, comfy and cozy. That lasted for like two and a half months. Talk about feeling at the mercy of nature.

ANYWAY, because of this I went to the humane society (against my husband's wishes) and asked for a cat. Since they were running a program to lower their population of adult cats, we showed up with eager expectations of taking home a free cat to rid our home of mice. Since hubby has allergies, we opted for a cat that was a Maine Coon breed. Unfortunately, the pound requested that we take a PAIR of cats instead of just one because the pair was brought in together as 'siblings' and the former owners requested that they be placed in a new home together. So instead of just bringing home the one cat, we ended up with two. And, the tricky humane society knew were they were doing, those sly dogs, because that second cat wouldn't groom himself, didn't like people and was a total grump. Welcome to our home, Rhett. Sheesshhh

After about six months, Scarlet (the cat we actually wanted) was fairly happy (except for the vomitting around the house which is a whole other story) and Rhett was finally grooming himself so all seemed well. We had a few peeing episodes which we were unable to blame on either cat because we never caught the pee-er in action so we just cleaned it up and yelled at both the cats. (and when i say 'we', I mean *I* cleaned it up since no one else in the house is willing). Anyhoo….all seemed fairly okay until a couple of months ago.

I was super stressed over our upcoming trip to the west coast and the cats seemed to be picking up on that stress because they were jumpier than normal and at some point (i was preoccupied) Rhett decided that he no longer cared if he cleaned the poop off his butt or not. (He STANK and it took us a while to figure out the reason for the smell– he had poop stuck in the fur around his butt. "ICK" doesn't even begin to describe it. Especially since the poop would drop off at random times and places in the house. Sometimes on the stairs. Sometimes on the carpet. Sometimes you would get up in the morning and realize that your socks smelled bad and you can guess why.)

While we were on our trip, I was blissfully free of cat clean-up-duty for once and it was GREAT.

But then we came home.

Not only was rhett stinky, he smelled like cat pee now too. No more grooming. And he was still jumpy. So now time has passed. Things have quieted down around the house but Rhett is still refusing to have any pride and no matter how much hair I've cut off around his butt, he STILL has poop stuck to him. Now, if I even take a pair of scissors out of a drawer, he runs. Seriously. He is a grey blur. And I won't even tell you about all the hissing, growling, and biting that was going on while i was trying to snip the hair off (and he was unhappy too). I wish knock-out drugs for animals were available over the counter. Just in case they were and I didn't realize it, I checked the pet isles of a couple of stores. No dice. Darn.

I spent an hour a few mornings ago cleaning up cat poop in several areas of the house. Yesterday I realized that the cat had peed on my awesome messenger bag. This morning I found cat pee in the kids plastic playhouse. AND ON THE DOLLS INSIDE THE HOUSE. Seriously, he must have had to do some sort of special cat gymnastics to be able to soak the dolls in pee. The dolls had plastic and cloth bodies and singsong mechanics inside so they were a total loss. THAT WAS THE FINAL STRAW (or so I thought). I was close to tears… babies' cutie-pie dollies that serenaded them to sleep at night are outside in the trash cans waiting to be taken to the curb. NOT COOL. There and then I decided that Rhett was not going to be a member of our family much longer. I started daydreaming about that old disney movie where the boy takes his rabid dog outside with a shotgun to put it out of it's misery. Yup, he has to go.

Now, I THOUGHT that was the final straw. But as it turns out, no. While I was sitting here typing this my five year old announced that the couch stinks. Upon closer fragrance inspection, it would appear that the cat has also managed to pee on the DOWN-FILLED LINEN COUCH.

Okay, this is WAR.


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  1. I feel for you! Milo did that a few years ago. He had bladder stones. Maybe Rhett has an infection? That would mean a vet visit, but no more pee. Of course, Milo ended up needing surgery after three, yes three, xrays. Just a regular infection would take simple antibiotics. Hope this is fixed soon, one way or the other. lol chelle

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