Being a proud pet owner (guardian? pet chef?), when my cats get stuck on something, I do whatever I can to help them out. Like the time that I woke up in the middle of the night and dashed across the room because my cat was hanging by his neck from a defective cat bed, that was some crazy shit. Today, however, I had the most hardcore pet owner experience -- ever.
While making my breakfast, peanut butter and jelly on toast, I noticed Oliver, my big maine coone, was sitting funny with his legs together. I took a bite of my sandwich, and he scooted across the counter on his ass.
Okay, he has long belly fur and probably had a piece of poo stuck to him. It happens. Usually he just needs a damp paper towel, some owner love, and he's good to go.
This time however, it was like a massive lump of half-dried poo mixed up with his fur and jammed against the poor boy's cat-man parts and nether opening. He must have gotten it stuck to him in the middle of the night and it had time to set.
I tried to get it out with the before-mentioned damp paper-towel trick, but it was too matted. The second trick I've got is to just cut the mats out with scissors, but they were way too close to his skin so there was only one thing left to do: give him a bath.
I ran a bathtub about five-inches full of steaming water and tossed him in. He hadn't had a bath in recent times, so he freaked and tried to make a run for it. I fought him for a good five minutes, trying to pin him against me while working on the mats with my free hand, but he got loose by jumping right at me, scrambling onto my shoulder and leaping off onto the toilet, where he slid off it, leaving a gigantic brown streak behind.
As I watched this in shock, it dawned on me that this was going to be a filthy-fucking-day. He was trapped in the bathroom with me, so I could conceivably do this wrestle, escape, catch thing indefinitely, but it was just traumatizing the poor guy. So I took off my shirt and pants, grabbed him and jumped into the nasty bathtub water with him, pinning him between my legs and working out the poo from his fur with both hands.
I really have to emphasize how big and strong he is. He's not a normal cat. He's a crazy, huge, gentle giant of a cat weighing upwards of 13 pounds of pure muscle and bone. His claws are the size of fork tongs. His head is the size of a softball. He could swallow an egg whole. And panicked and strong, I couldn't just hold him with one hand and work with the other. He really needed a full-body pin.
Even so, it still took three long minutes to get his fur clear kneeling there with him in the foul water. He half-escaped once more, gouging me and dropping my glasses into the waste water, but I prevailed and eventually with a good rinse he was clean.
I wish Lankakitten was home during it so I could have hid in the office ("Sorry sweetie, I've got work!") while she dealt with the situation. Isn't love grand?
Haha.
[later edit: my bathroom adventure would have made a fantasticly upsetting SG Boys set.]
While making my breakfast, peanut butter and jelly on toast, I noticed Oliver, my big maine coone, was sitting funny with his legs together. I took a bite of my sandwich, and he scooted across the counter on his ass.
Okay, he has long belly fur and probably had a piece of poo stuck to him. It happens. Usually he just needs a damp paper towel, some owner love, and he's good to go.
This time however, it was like a massive lump of half-dried poo mixed up with his fur and jammed against the poor boy's cat-man parts and nether opening. He must have gotten it stuck to him in the middle of the night and it had time to set.
I tried to get it out with the before-mentioned damp paper-towel trick, but it was too matted. The second trick I've got is to just cut the mats out with scissors, but they were way too close to his skin so there was only one thing left to do: give him a bath.
I ran a bathtub about five-inches full of steaming water and tossed him in. He hadn't had a bath in recent times, so he freaked and tried to make a run for it. I fought him for a good five minutes, trying to pin him against me while working on the mats with my free hand, but he got loose by jumping right at me, scrambling onto my shoulder and leaping off onto the toilet, where he slid off it, leaving a gigantic brown streak behind.
As I watched this in shock, it dawned on me that this was going to be a filthy-fucking-day. He was trapped in the bathroom with me, so I could conceivably do this wrestle, escape, catch thing indefinitely, but it was just traumatizing the poor guy. So I took off my shirt and pants, grabbed him and jumped into the nasty bathtub water with him, pinning him between my legs and working out the poo from his fur with both hands.
I really have to emphasize how big and strong he is. He's not a normal cat. He's a crazy, huge, gentle giant of a cat weighing upwards of 13 pounds of pure muscle and bone. His claws are the size of fork tongs. His head is the size of a softball. He could swallow an egg whole. And panicked and strong, I couldn't just hold him with one hand and work with the other. He really needed a full-body pin.
Even so, it still took three long minutes to get his fur clear kneeling there with him in the foul water. He half-escaped once more, gouging me and dropping my glasses into the waste water, but I prevailed and eventually with a good rinse he was clean.
I wish Lankakitten was home during it so I could have hid in the office ("Sorry sweetie, I've got work!") while she dealt with the situation. Isn't love grand?
Haha.
[later edit: my bathroom adventure would have made a fantasticly upsetting SG Boys set.]
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
i have had an almost exact experence
-8 pounds
trade poo for bloodpuss
the scratch was sadly to my secret parts and not the glasses, so ouch oh my lord
i feel for you