Ever since my last pregnancy, I have not lost my super power for smelling. At times this has been very useful, like when I try to pinpoint a Partylite scent of candle. Other times, it is down right annoying. I can smell, as my loving husband likes to say, a gnats fart at a hundred yards. This has become especially annoying lately since for some reason unbeknownst to me my cats are peeing in my house. Ugh! Overlooking the obvious disgusting element of waste elimination of it's own unsanitary issue, the smell is making me nuts.
Okay, so picture this, me on my hands and knees sniffing madly around the carpet, up the walls, around the furniture looking for the "wet spot". I know that I must find it, it stinks, and if I don't they will pee there again. Cats LOVE going to the last known scene and working their magic, again and again and... Of course my dog thinks this is a game and is licking me and sniffing with me during my exploration. I have 5 cats and that raises the stench potential exponentially, I can almost see the vapors rising as I speak...uummm now where is it!
Low and behold, I find it. So I scurry to pour a gallon of vinegar on the spot...ooohhh...the smell level changes. I abhor the smell of vinegar, makes me nauseous. So as I sway over the offending spot, I scrub the spreading noxious cleaner into the carpet, praying that it will penetrate into the pad below and neutralize the "newest spot". I rise, a bit unsteadily in my sickness, to determine how long a gallon of liquid takes to dry in carpet. So I wait anxiously, then I can spread baking soda on the area, praying I will not make paste or dissolve the pad below. Finally it's dry enough and I scatter white powder all over the carpet, encompassing a bigger area than needed. Gee whiz, more must be better, right? Then I rush to the bathroom to fetch the hydrogen peroxide...oooohhhh...the chemists are loving this part. I truly enjoyed junior high science and this is no different. I watch the bubbles and scrub fiercely...ummm..I wonder if I should have worn gloves..
So, this has continued for about a month, I can't seem to keep up with the little buggers, but I am finally covering all spots. Then we leave for the Thanksgiving holiday, yep you guess it. I come home to a smell that made me retch and a visual Van Gogh of urine and feces on my kitchen floor. Me, the mother of 5 kids who has seen vomit in all colors and lumpy consistencies, who has seen more shit than a sewer worker, is almost spewing at the mess.
My only excuse for my behavior after this was because I was tired. We arrived in late and I had been driving in bad weather and I was still stressed. But, I guess, most of all, I was FED UP!!! If my husband had his gun out, I think I would have shot the offending balls of fur! I ran to the laundry room and grabbed what was sure to be one of the worst mistake I have made in my life. The bleach. Yep, you guess it again, cat's urine is ammonia and did I think about that? Hell no. I just wanted the smell gone. Well, it left alright. As soon as I splashed the floor liberally with the fluid I saw my idiocy. I watched the bubbling yellow puddle in fascination while my brain clicked on what was going to be obvious real soon.
Oh shit! My eyes began to burn and water madly and my nose became more raw with each breath I inhaled. I thrust open the kitchen windows as wide as I could and ran to the bathroom to flip on the fan, screamed at Dave to open the back door. He was staring at me, paused at the entry to kitchen with an expression that clearly said "What the F***!" I hurried to open as many doors and windows as I could, then grabbed the crappiest towels I could find to mop up the chemical disaster I had created. Yelling at Kelly to take the kids to the back bedroom away from the fumes that were making me ill, I quickly sopped up what I could. I couldn't cover my face, my nose, because all I could smell was bleach no matter what I did. My eyes just weeped in fury.
Finally I took the dripping, sodden bleach towels to the washing machine...how much damage could I do there? If the towels made it, great, if not, oh well. I think the smell finally went away, I wasn't sure until the next morning when my body repaired the damage I had done to it.
"So Jo Jo, what did you learn?" Shoot the cats next time!
1 comment:
I think it is more fun to shoot cats than clean up after them. Oh wait that was Rob who shot the cat. He used a bow and arrow. More sporting that way. He only had field tip on the arrow and it still penetrated a good 4 inches.
Cat did survive, Rob got over his guilt. Cat got eaten by coyotes, Rob is now off hunting birds. Cats aren't as tasty unless cooked in a wok with ginger and soy sauce.
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