I came home from studying around 6pm and what happened as soon as Ginger was walked and free to roam the apartment? Vomit, I tell you. Lots of it. Early that morning I had caught her ::um:: cleaning out the cat box for me. Ginger has been told multiple times that her assistance is not needed when we clean out the litter box. However, she still feels, that on occasion, she should help with this chore...which of course makes her sick. Friends, let me tell you, I have never smelled anything so foul in my entire life, and I HL'd in biology. Ginger didn't even want anything to do with it once it was out of her...if that gives you an idea of what we were dealing with. So I cleaned up her mess which was about the size of a small child, and set to work airing out the house. So, with nag champa burning, the windows open, and the fans working overtime, I sat down on the couch to work....
...and then I heard it....again. That horrible retching noise that animals make.
Ginger slinked out from around the side of the couch from where she had once again emptied the contents of her stomach. I quietly counted to 10 and set to work on round 2 of cleaning.
Needless to say that when Grant got home we cancelled our plans for the evening. I love my furry babies but they had tried my patience this week.
Wednesday morning Oren and Bosco knocked down our hall mirror, which fell down our flight of stairs and shattered into a million pieces, right when I was about to leave for school. Oren cut his paw but no kitty stitches were required. Vacuuming up all of those fragments took much longer than it should have. And Nyx was her usual cranky and devilish self and glared at the amount of time I spent running the vacuum.
As much as I want to throw them off of the balcony sometimes, it is mornings like these that make me love 'em all the same.