The cat is really really really really mad at us

Cat Two is a sensitive lad.

And a vindictive a–hole.

We know that he is angry with us because he strategically places feces depending on his mood. When all is well, it’s all in the litter box. If he’s a bit miffed, especially about our having a party or overnight guests, he leaves a bit outside the litter box on the floor. When he is ready to throw us out on our ears, aching to take over what is rightfully his domain, he pulls down the covers on our bed and poops exactly where we sleep. Last time, it happened nine times in a week, always where Spouse lays his right shoulder. This time, it’s right where my left deltoid burrows in each night. And he’s managing to get top sheet, fitted sheet, comforter, and mattress pad all in one fell poop.

But the kicker, this time, is that he’s also now targeting Peanut’s new bed. Knowing that we have the real power, and Peanut is just a pawn in our family’s nonsense, Spouse and I get the crap, and Peanut gets the pee. Three pees on Peanut’s bed today, including two where Cat Two pulled down the covers, peed right on Peanut’s sheets, then pulled the covers back up. Not well, or anything. I’m not saying he grows opposable thumbs. I’m saying the f—er deliberately hides his efforts so they can get really good and stinky. So we’re washing four freaking loads of laundry right now, instead of having nap time. At least we had a little extra BioKleen after Peanut potty trained himself early, having decided he hated the bulk of cloth diapers. Hope it works on cat shit, too.

Good times, y’all.

This f—ing cat is damned lucky we believe in fixing whatever is making him mad rather than throwin his ass into the pound, because that sounds really tempting. We spend a lot of time volunteering at the pound, where we see that people drop off their pets for all manner of inconveniences, the likes of which you give a child a timeout or a good talking to, but for which most people think it’s acceptable to just give away the furriest of their family. Disgusting and sad.

But, dude, he’s pooping in our bed to make a point.

I fear that if we ever had another child, both cats and the first kid would be pooping all over the hous, just to voice their displeasure and relative helplessness.

And I thought it felt like a zoo in here already…

5 thoughts on “The cat is really really really really mad at us

  1. That stinks. We had a pug like that. But when he decided to make his claim on the new baby’s stuff, he became an outdoor pug. I have very little toloerance for spite, especially from animals. Good luck.

  2. that sucks.

    how do you get the smell of cat urine out? we had a cat that used to pee in our closets for fun. he wasn’t mad. he just didn’t care for the litter box. we were never able to get the smell out…of our clothes either.

    needless to say he got a new home when we graduated college and couldn’t go to work smelling of happy cat piss.

    • Oh, cat pee doesn’t come out. I’ve tried. We throw away things he pees on. If you catch it before it soaks in, washing in cold with BioKleen, then hot with BioKleen gets rid of it. Once it’s soaked in, though, and dried enough to smeel like cat pee, you’re done.

      We’re stocking up on comforters while Amazon has it’s end of the year sale.

  3. i complain about my two rotter cats, because i think they are the worst cats in the world. i now see this is not the case. that cat has really crossed a line. is he/she sick? my one cat olive started pissing on a rug on our first floor then i found out she had UTI. drugs fixed the problem. poop is emotional, though. kitty prozac? cat therapy? i spoke with a pet psychic once — there’s just gotta be one in your neck of the woods. meowwww!

    • 20-20, you’re right (and a good, compassionate cat mama). He is clearly sick. He has an appt. tomorrow. Let’s just say there’s a consistency and a frequency that bespeaks either an unreported trip to drink massive quantities of third world water, or an illness we must address.
      He just wanted us to notice he’s sick. And now that we notice, he wants to keep telling us. So we shut all the doors and blanket the living room. He’s given up and returned to the litter box. Four times an hour.

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