Everybody poops

My new medication is WORKING and my depression seems to be letting up a bit! Most of all, the terrible flashbacks from PTSD have calmed down in the past few days. So, without further adieu, I have a funny story for you today!

We have twin cats. Their names are Pearl and Seashell (Shelly for short) because one is white and the other looks like the outside of an oyster shell. They both got pregnant for the first time at the same time - twins all the way! - but Pearl delivered her kittens first. Unfortunately, when they were less than a week old, a ferrel tomcat came and killed the kittens (MAJOR drama with the kids!) When Shelly had her babies 2 days later, Pearl started nursing the kittens, too. They seem to have settled in to a nice co-mothering rhythm with no disputes we've seen - one takes off outside for a few hours, then they switch. Must be nice!


The problem: we were afraid of said tomcat so we kept the kittens (and the two mamas) inside. Although they are *marginally* litter box trained, these are two outdoor cats. Over the weekend, I made shrimp and left the tails out for the dog but of course, the cats got to them first. Next day, I awoke to the odor of poo, which I was sure was emanating from my one child still in night diapers. After disturbing him to check, I assumed it was just morning breath from someone and went back to sleep. (keep in mind Aaron was gone to fish camp and all the kids were in bed with me)

I was woken abruptly about 45 minutes later when Amelia went literally sliiiiiding through the poo next to my bed! There were a total of eight (8!!!!!!) piles of cat scat in the house. I cleaned up. every. one. And became more vigilant about letting them out before bedtime and even in the middle of the night if they woke me (which they did). We had no more poo incidents for the next week, and I made light of the whole situation to Aaron when he came home.

Then it happened. Shelly squatted at the foot of our bed and began to let loose her load on some fresh laundry. Aaron hollered as I've never heard him holler before, leapt from the bed - roaring!! - and tossed the cat toward the door.

But. She was still in the midst of a mammoth dump!

It was as if you had swung the shitting cat around in circles. Our room looked like a paintball course, except instead of paint, there was POO. Everywhere. On the dressers. On the bed. On the walls. On the floor. On the clean laundry. On my book. It was SERIOUSLY everywhere.

I herded the cat outside to finish her business. Aaron is quite sure she will never poop again after her traumatic sphincter experience of letting loose while airborne. I am quite sure I will never again let outdoor cats inside for any length of time!