What a Tuesday

Tuesday morning, I had hit snooze a couple of times. As usual, Phil decided to meow up a storm and hop on my torso to wake me up. It is normally quite cute. He starts licking my chin, lips, and nose. If I don’t stir, then I get a play chomp on my nose. But Tuesday was different. That morning when Phil hopped on my torso, I got a huge whiff of feces. I picked him up and turned him around and yup butt fur matted with poop. Poop on my duvet cover.

I wound up getting him into the bathroom.  I got the surface stuff off with toilet paper first and I showed him the soiled paper to show him, “See? I need to clean you,” He smelled it , made a face and I think he understood.  I had to hose him down in the tub to rinse things off. He’s a Mainecoon so the wetness of water doesn’t bother him, it’s the sound of the faucet that does.  I have had to deal with worse diarrhea from him before so thank goodness after last time, I sat with my roommate and reasoned out what we needed to do better next time. Cut to Tuesday morning and the new handy bucket of cheap towels that helped me so much drying Phil and mopping up poop water.  I did all of this in my nightgown before 7:30 AM. I was sopping wet, bleeding from his scratches, and sweating. I told Phil that he did a good job and I’m sorry that he’s damp.

The funny thing is, I did all of this cleaning and craziness without swearing or yelling at all. I knew it was an accident and a hassle. Getting pissed would have just freaked Phil out and made things worse. My dad would have been hopping mad and swearing up a storm. I talked to him while I sipped my morning coffee. Some of things I learned from my dad are so helpful and other things can be limiting or unhealthy.  I’m glad I got my emergency response programming from my mom!