Cat sitting, cat shitting
I'm house-sitting for a workmate this week, something I tend to do quite a lot these days. It means the workmate can merrily go on holiday knowing there's someone reliable feeding their cats and keeping burglars at bay; and it gives me the chance to escape my parents' home and live like a proper adult for a while.
I do it for all of the people that I like at work (two). I'm anxious, because in this particular house something bad usually happens when I'm here. One time I had Jehovah's witnesses round, and another time one of the cats kept playing dead and frightening the crap out of me. (That was the first time I house-sat: "He does that a lot," I was helpfully told after I'd finished). Worst of all was the time when a different cat had diarrhoea. My fault apparently- cats don't drink milk?! Sadly it was Missy, who uses a litter tray. Bless her, she'd managed to do her business there and only there, but the cleaning out of it was a horrific experience. Like baby poo, cat poo has the ability to smell far, far worse than a human adult's. Why is that? I couldn't cope with it, and ended up throwing up. In Missy's litter tray. Well, it was the only suitable place! Unfortunately, Missy shunned me for the rest of the week; no doubt annoyed at the way I'd messed up her private place.
So far, nothing bad has happened this week- if anything it's been a bit boring. I'm sure something is just around the corner though.
On the plus side, I tend to get a memorable gift when people return though- after a trip to Cyprus, they bought me back some pornographic playing cards; after one to Egypt they got me some Flaps. (They're savoury biscuits; sadly not very tasty). They're only in Cornwall this time- who knows what I'll get...
I do it for all of the people that I like at work (two). I'm anxious, because in this particular house something bad usually happens when I'm here. One time I had Jehovah's witnesses round, and another time one of the cats kept playing dead and frightening the crap out of me. (That was the first time I house-sat: "He does that a lot," I was helpfully told after I'd finished). Worst of all was the time when a different cat had diarrhoea. My fault apparently- cats don't drink milk?! Sadly it was Missy, who uses a litter tray. Bless her, she'd managed to do her business there and only there, but the cleaning out of it was a horrific experience. Like baby poo, cat poo has the ability to smell far, far worse than a human adult's. Why is that? I couldn't cope with it, and ended up throwing up. In Missy's litter tray. Well, it was the only suitable place! Unfortunately, Missy shunned me for the rest of the week; no doubt annoyed at the way I'd messed up her private place.
So far, nothing bad has happened this week- if anything it's been a bit boring. I'm sure something is just around the corner though.
On the plus side, I tend to get a memorable gift when people return though- after a trip to Cyprus, they bought me back some pornographic playing cards; after one to Egypt they got me some Flaps. (They're savoury biscuits; sadly not very tasty). They're only in Cornwall this time- who knows what I'll get...