I have a lot of chores to do and I have a schedule to do them. It’s like gardening – you want to plant a new shrub but first you have to move other plants and that means preparing their destination first, and then fixing the bed where the new one will go, and getting the compost etc., etc., etc.
My plan is to shampoo all the carpets – once the weather warms up and I get a lot of furniture and insulation moved and firewood relocated – and so on. However, Mother Nature had other ideas. Sometimes I think she hates me.
He’s cute and smart and funny, and I love him, but puberty has hit hard and it’s toxic. If you want to know if you’re suffering from the traditional Covid symptoms, just live with a kitten spraying everywhere. He is lying in my arms right now exhausted. The brat.
How 7 or 8 pounds of young cat can possibly contain the amount of liquid he produces is a mystery. I think he’s actually proud of the havoc he causes with a potent discharge of concentrated urine. Ciaran goes to the Vet tomorrow – if I have to swim there with him on my back.
I had intended to thoroughly clean the house (as opposed to the spot scrubbing I do now) once he was lying in a bed recovering. Instead I wound up using a strong cleaner to do all the floors and doors already. Unfortunately this stopped him spraying in his usual areas so it’s become a weird game for him to find new places to mark.
If something goes wrong and he doesn’t get neutered within the next 26 hours I plan to send him to Ukraine. He is the most powerful chemical weapon on the planet right now and, with the right wind, he’ll decimate all of the Russian troops. They can send him back once he’s gotten it all out of his system.