A relaxing day with cats

Started with “Dear Mommy, thank you for holding me over the tiled flooring while I puked and then washing my paws which I flicked puke droplets from on route to the sink even though you were completely topless the whole time.”

Beginning the day that way seemed like a really good excuse to try out a Christmas present: vodka and Bloody Mary mix from a local distillery.

It seemed heavy on the pickle juice.

Did Day 1 of Yoga With Adrienne because it’s always possible that I could get my physical shit together.

Somehow disappointed everyone in the process. “We see you. But we wish that we didn’t.”

Might take a bath later. Provided that the tub is free. Probably not gonna happen.

Spending the 4th…with cats

We spent it in the bathroom.

Olivia Wigglebothum hates thunderstorms, fireworks, and sometimes the sound of the UPS truck. My neighborhood started early per usual, so Olivia has been low bellying it around the house for most of the week.

Saturday, I kept her in the bathroom with me while I took a shower. Friday night though I wanted nothing more than to read in the bathtub. I brought Olivia in the bathroom with me because the bathroom is one of her approved “safe spots” and the noise of the exhaust fan helps mask the boom boom pows that were jackin’ our style.

She seemed happy enough to camp out and talk to me from the bath mat. I kept the door cracked so she didn’t feel trapped, but an open door to the bathroom is an invitation to Miles who is the reason I take baths with the door shut. Once he’s in, I spend most of my time deterring him from stepping on me in the tub, and hoping that he doesn’t fall in and panic.

I finally persuaded Miles that Olivia REALLY needed his love more than I did in that moment.

At one point, Birdie was like, “Hey, guys, what’s up in here?” From their reaction, she was a third wheel in the cat universe.

We survived the explosions, but Miles really fucked up Olivia’s hair. Cowlick.

It’s all fun and games until somebody falls in

Miles has had the sneezes for over a week. Big, spraying, far reaching cat sneezes that insure that most of my house is now covered with tiny snot particles. We’ve been to the v-e-t where he got an antibiotic shot and his symptoms have lessened, but after a big snotty sneeze today, I decided to steam him a bit in the bathroom.

The consistent vet advice for snotty cats is to lock them in the bathroom with you while you take a hot shower. The cat allegedly spends bathroom time breathing deeply so as to clear out those clogged passages.

Miles spent his time yelling at me from behind the shower curtain…until he fell in to the tub.


The very moment that I had soaped up my face, I heard and felt a pump jug of bath gel hit the bottom of the tub along with frantic scrambling noises. I could see just enough to give his booty a boost as Miles frantically tried to pull himself back out. Luckily he was mostly shielded by the curtain.

When I was done and could survey the wet cat damage, I found a soaked tail and flank with wet paws. However Miles had regained his cool and was just chillin’ on the rug hoping this indignity would end in food.



Under the Door

Any cat owner knows that you rarely go to the bathroom alone. Sooooo you know what I’m doing.

Bird inevitably comes knocking. Cats do enjoy regularity. It’s easier to let her in so she can head butt my knees and jump in and out of the tub looking for drinks. The alternative is her scratching the door and the carpet from the hallway or starting shit with the other fur kids. There’s nothing like bodies thumping against the wall and shrieking to make me go to the bathroom faster.

It’s better to watch her wild calico energy invested in an exuberant game of Under the Door. So exuberant that her hind legs caught up with her front, and sent her tipping until her bottom thudded against the tub.

With Miles on the other side of the door, one flopped somersault turned into a full belly roll.