A cat-ass-trophic event

The cat’s ass . . . one of my favorite expressions.  Why?  Because it’s funny!  Duh! 

Cats are fastidiously clean . . . including their tushies.  They spend almost as much time grooming themselves as they do sleeping.  And, that’s saying something!  Cats devote much attention to the cleaning of their butts.  So generally, the cat’s ass is fresh and clean.  If you’re not familiar with this expression, it’s actually meant as a good thing.

For example . . . YOU are the cat’s ass.  (Psst, that’s a compliment, I swear!!)

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That being said, sometimes the cat’s ass isn’t such a good thing.

  

Our kitty, Fuzzums, sleeps with us.  She usually sleeps on my back or my butt.  Sometimes she sleeps at the bottom of the bed.  On this night, praise the feline gods, she had chosen to sleep on hubby’s hip. 

I had gotten up to go potty and noticed she was there.  When I got back she was still there.  Which is odd, since anytime I get out of bed she thinks I’m going to feed her and makes a beeline for the kitchen.  I didn’t over think it . . . after all it was 4:00 a.m.  . . I just wanted to get in the last bit of sleep before the alarm went off.

So, I snuggled up to hubby and draped my arm over him.  This must have annoyed the Fuzz because she hopped off the bed. 

Not long afterwards I was awoken by hubby switching on the bedroom light.  I asked him why in the name of heaven he was waking me up at 4:30 in the morning.   His explanation was almost as funny as it was disgusting.  No, come to think of it, it was funnier.

This is the cat-ass-trophic tale he told me  . . .

After the Fuzz had left he put his arm on his side.  Where his hand was, he felt something on the sheet.  He made a tactile effort to determine what it was and started picking at it.  He said it felt gummy . . . like congealed adhesive.  He was balling it up between his fingers and couldn’t quite figure out what it was.  So he sniffed it.  He immediately deduced what it was he was touching.  Kitty kaka!  That’s when the light came on.  And that’s when he saw it . . . feline feces . . . on his fingers and on the sheet. 

Uh . . . ew!  Yeah, that’s pretty much how he felt, I’m sure.   So much for fastidiously clean cat butts.  He hopped up and rushed to the bathroom to wash his hands and came back to wash the poopstain from the sheet. 

It's a good thing she wasn't sleeping on his face, eh??

Despite the grossness of the situation, I couldn’t help but laugh.  And laugh . . . and laugh.  Better him than me, right??  Heh!

Hubby was less than amused and neither one of us fell back to sleep. 

Ah, well, it makes for good blog fodder.