That's what my hubby likes to tell anybody about Oscar and the happiness he has brought. Sure! It's been a load of sh*ts and giggles. Especially, the other night, when I had to corner the little fellow, ask the hubby to hold in him in a towel (for the hubby's protection) as I grabbed a Kleenex and proceeded to yank a piece of pretty, long, black thread from his rear orifice. WHAT THE HELL?!? The hubby was all flustered by the situation, mostly because the kitty had quite a mess on him to start with and boy did he stick. (Oscar, right.)
I tried to go as fast as I could cleaning up Oscar and calming down the hubby. And, yes, he was just as squeamish changing diapers. (The hubby, right.) So after releasing the kitty (who now looked stereotypical -wet spikes/disgusted look), I raced to the litter box corner to assess and fix the mess, before the hubby loses whatever he might have eaten during the day.
It was worse than I thought and required alot of breathing-holding to get started. This is an amazing feat for me, as 1. I can't swim therefore can't hold my breathe; 2. I'm a smoker since I was a wee sasslass. Not much air going in anymore. So the possibilities of dizziness and turning blue are real for me. Who knew there would be so many dangers just trying to take care of your pet?
So after all was said and done, my hubby was pissy about the mess and having been thrust into help without a choice, (which did make me enjoy it more, really) and Oscar, who was very adamant about expressing his feeling of being violated by the woman of the house. I didn't think he would get over that one. It's only been 3 days or so, so I'm still watching my back. (He is hunting me as I type this. I can see him out of the corner of my eye. help (wrote it small so Oscar couldn't hear me.) Yes that was a funny. Not the hunting part though. He just attacked.
I'll have to take that as a sign that I won't get anymore peace from him for now. As I stated in the beginning, it's all been sh*ts and giggles. Bring it on!
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