Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

I have a problem.

My house smells like cat pee. My old cats, persnickety and defiant, have decided to pee and poop on the upstairs hall rug. Repeatedly.

Jeanine bought some smell remover, but it is not pet smell remover and while it makes everything fresh for a moment, the cats still smell the "sweet spot" and go back to do the deed again.

I should say, cat. Because I know which one it is. This information made everyone at dinner last night laugh hysterically. No, I did not do an anal measurement. One cat is very little and one is very fat. I clean the litter almost every day and let me tell you, one poops really big poops, and one little ones.

It's the little cat.

Jeanine, who has not been thrilled with the whole cat episode, only likes the little one. She's quite arrogant- the cat that is- and tends to usually have a look of disdain on her face.

Jeanine says she has personality. The other one- who loves to purr and have her belly rubbed- is boring.

Now I see what she loves me. I'm arrogant and usually have a look of disdain on my face, too. Although I will roll over in a heartbeat for a belly rub, too.

I don't know what to do to get the cat to stop peeing and pooping on the rug upstairs. But on a hot, humid day like today? I know I have to. Especially after Jeanine stepped in a pile yesterday- neither cat has much charm to her right now.

Any suggestions?

Night Time Stalking

Of the elusive Fatty Girl...



It's almost my bedtime so I pulled out the turkey bait. It worked.


Yeah. I'm screwed.

What to Do...

Oh, great. Now what am I going to do?

I spent all weekend talking to Zachary about how important it was for us to continue our role as "foster" cat people. To take in cats and then when a good home was found, to send them out.

Our two rescued cats are 15. They were in a shelter, miserable, listless, not eating or drinking. They hung limp when you picked them up.

As you can see, progress has been made.

When you get an older animal, you have no idea what they like to eat, what their habits are, good or bad. Having to syringe feed both water and chicken broth until they finally started to show some interest in life again was difficult and rewarding.

Last week, I woke up to Charlotte Rose sitting on my chest with the above pictured toy mouse. She wanted to play fetch.

The other cat, Darcy, who we call Fatty Kitty because Darcy just does not fit her personality to date, hides most of the day. She comes out at night to snuggle with the dog and to yowl for sliced turkey.

Not cat food. Not even wet cat food. Sliced turkey, please, and GET IT NOW.

I don't have a picture of her because she's rather camera shy.

Charlotte is like a dog, she follows me around most the day. Fatty is... well... fat and purrs so loud you can hear her across the room.

After I finally talked Zachary into giving up these cats, as he has been the one to really help me with them, I walked into my bedroom today to find Charlotte like this. While Fatty hides in the basement, Charlotte crawls under the covers. But to find her with the mouse...

Who is going to explain to ME that it's best to move these cats along to a new home?

Foster Cat Update

They are out from under the furniture. Hanging out in the back room next to the gas fireplace, where it's toasty warm.

I think I'm going to stick to cats today.

One of the rescue team called me a saint.

HA! She doesn't read the comments on this blog...

I don't think I'm a saint. I think someday, I'll be old. Hopefully, someone will bring me chicken broth and sour cream. Maybe a little baby food.

Syringe a little wine in the side of my mouth.

You know, good karma in the world.