Oops, she farted again!
Charlie spills the BEANS on a messy situation
Custard wants to know, “If your pets could talk, what would they say to you?” (Like, you know, other than “meowwww.”)
Ding dong!
There goes that doorbell. I run after Frances, hoping that it’s the next Chewy order for Charlie Chiu with my favorite Churu treats. (I think they should call them Chiu-ru!)
Oh no…
I’m really disappointed. And not just disappointed, but scared. It’s one of those large, flat boxes. There’s also a container that looks like one of the things she drinks out of with a thing sticking out of it. She gets these once every few weeks which is much too often for my tastes.
Inside the box is a big, round, flat thing that is cut into many triangles. I beg for some because as the real head of the household (even though she pays the taxes), I get everything she eats. On the other hand, she does NOT get a bite of MY FOOD. Because it is mine, and only mine. (Although I must say she’s never looked eager to try it.)
So why am I scared even though I ask for bites?
It’s what happens a half hour after she eats.
You see, I sit behind her when she works at the large table in the room next to the kitchen.
She starts to make strange noises that are sometimes accompanied by the worst smells. Sometimes there’s a stream of them. And it’s right in my face!
It was once so loud that my ears went back immediately! I hope I don’t go deaf.
She’s done it more than several times when feeding me too. Ugh!
And this goes on for the better part of the next few hours.
But there is one particular occasion I recall.
The Deluge
Once after eating one of those things, she gasped “Oh no!!” She ran to a smaller room where she does litter box things. She didn’t bother to shut the door so I witnessed everything. There was a mess everywhere.
It also smelled real bad.
She came out a few minutes later, headed to the kitchen, and returned to that small room with a basket of stuff. She was on all hands and knees – just like when she’s cleaning up my box. Except this time it was much longer!
Then she stepped into this thing with running water and put on some other clothes.
She went back to our usual place at the table where she muttered “I hate my fucking osteoarthritis! I wish there were portable human litter boxes.”
But I wonder why she just doesn’t quit eating those large round things? I have to conclude that humans are stupid. No wonder we cats control them!
If you like this kind of humor, I have more of it here:
Who says Oxford grads are stuffy?
© Frances A. Chiu, January 9, 2024. All Rights Reserved.
