Craptastitic Adventures in Diarrheaville

At a recent staff meeting one of the Mom's on maternity leave was telling the table about the con's of having two kids under the age of two.  It seems that her children have decided to conspire and have opposing sleeping schedules which means she and her husband do not get a lot of sleep.  She turned to me and commented "Having pets, you probably know what I mean.... late night wake-ups, needing to go out, etc."

That is when I made my vital error.

I replied-  "I have senior pets.  They sleep in longer than I do.  Gone are the days of sleepless nights and multiple wake-up calls.  My life right now is simply divine."

The Gods of Divinity did not like my answer.  Divine retribution for my cheeky reply was their new mission.  Within two days the poo hit the fan.... I so regretted my earlier comments, but it was too late to take them back.  I just had to live with the consequences.

Some back ground information-
I am an urban farmer.

An urban what??????

An urban farmer is a someone that longs to live in the country but currently lives in the city.    They compensate by trying create a little country in the city.  If there were no pesky city by-laws, the urban farmer would make the leap and become a full-fledged in-town farmer.  Alas there are by-laws, so the urban farmer has imposed limits to animal options and must show restraint in their urban farming efforts.

In my case, my farm diversification plan includes a furry herd (three cats and a dog) and a plethora of flower gardens.  One of the cats is 18- years old and is

Syd... the cat who dreams of being an only cat!

consistently defying my predictions that it is close to the end of her life.  For three years I have been convinced that she will soon meet her Waterloo.  She chooses not to be defined by my predictions and continues to defy the odds I have outlined for her.

She is starting to look a little like Skeletor.  Her petite frame has shrunk from 11 to 5 pounds over the last three years.  She continues to be agile and eats.... as long as I stand guard and banish the other cats from her dining area by the hot air register.   My only complaint is, she has occasional diarrhea and appears to have lost her ability to predict when it is coming.  This has led to accidental pooing in areas other than the litter box.

Delightful... it is not.

As I mentioned I also have a dog.  Having a dog ensures that I do not hold the neighbourhood title of "Crazy Cat Lady"..... the title gets shortened to just plan "Crazy" or UF (urban farmer) as I like to refer to myself.  For the most part the dog has a bladder and bowels of steel.  However, every now an then

Gimli-  the dog that thinks he is a cat

he is stricken by the dreaded diarrhea.  He tries to help out by eating the feathers of his tail or grass, but that ultimately results his hacking up of a giant hairball.

Ohh yeah!!!!!  Raise a dog with cats and he eventually thinks he is a cat.  He attempts to do all that cats do-  like sleep on the back of couches, jump up on counters and it is not long until the dog demonstrates he can regurgitate hair with the best of them.

So now that you are up to speed here is a recap of the night the Gods of Divinity decided to punish me for bragging about the ease of having a furry herd.

It was Gimli who started the poo-poo parade.  He woke me up at 1:30 am by placing his nose close to mine and letting out a low guttural "Woof" in my face.  I jumped up startled, not really know where I was- let alone why I was up.  The dog's to and fro prancing quickly alerted me to his immediate need to go out.  As soon as my feet hit the floor the dog shot to the door like a bolt of lightning.  I trudge begrudgingly down the stairs after him.  I donned my boots, scarf, jacket and mitts ready to face the frigid outdoors.  He vacated his bowels in three different spots and we returned to the comfort of the house and I to my warm bed.   Soon I was asleep again.

But my slumber did not last too long......

Within an hour I awoke to a foul smell.   It was close and it was over-powering.  I felt something leap over my prone body.  I sat up... I sniffed... the heinous odour was close.... too close.  "No, no, no, no!!!!!"  I flicked on the lights only to witness the graphic art design left behind  on my bedding by the cats' ample diarrhea!  The only saving grace- she shat beside me and not on me.

2:30 am  and what was I doing?   Laundry of course.

An hour later I was crawling back into my freshly made bed.  I delighted in the fact that the worst was over.  I curled up on my side but sleep was a no go.  I flipped onto to my back.... nope still awake.   I went for no fail sideways sleeping position.  Nope!  Back to side lying.....  finally I fell asleep, when....

Duh duh da!!!!!!

The dog woofed at me again.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

I stood up and the room started spinning.  My legs felt weak.  I looked at the dog and knew I did not have the fortitude to don all my winter apparel to take him outside to "pee" out his poo.  I almost cried.  Then I recalled I have puppy pee pads for the cat.... it really saves the hardwood floors.  I grabbed a couple and instructed the dog to use them when he finally broke down and let the diarrhea flood gates open up.  I crawled back-up the stairs and locked all the animals out of my room.  I knew there would be at least one mess to clean in the morning, but I hoped it would not be too big and that it was conveniently on the pads vs the one and only area rug in the house.

As it turned out-  I might as well have taken the dog outside.  This was the same night that Bill (cat #2) decided to serenade me for the remainder of the night!  ** See "Timmy Better Have Fallen  In the Well" post. ** 

Around 5:00 am I needed to extricate myself from the room to use the washroom.  As I was sitting there, I noticed a dark blob on the light flooring.  It was lit by the soft glow of the night-light.  Sans glasses I squinted trying to make out what it was..... a sock?  Did I drop something?

No!!!!!!  It couldn't be!!!!!  It isn't a pile of poo.... Is it?  I became frantic.

Did I step in it??????   Reason set in-  No you didn't.  It would have gushed under your foot and between your toes if you had.  Whew!!!!

The next thought was-  Crap, crap, crap, is it on my pant leg.  I wanted to know the answer but was loathe to feel to find out.  I waited until I was free to turn on the light.  Yup-  it was pooh and no it was not on my pant leg.  A quick clean up and it was back to being serenaded by Bill until I finally gave up on trying to get some sleep.

Animals!  

If you have them- be prepared to deal with proverbial and literal pooh!!!!!!!

Poo Bags-  The Urban Farmer's most prized farm implement