too stupid to live

Wow. Look. I am not dead. (Though as you can see from the title, I am too stupid to live.) I have not canceled my internets (though I was tempted to when my Charter bill went up) and I do actually have stuff going on that is worth writing about. So where have I been? Here, mostly, but with company at first. While I thoroughly enjoyed the long awaited sister visit (details below), this is also when the trouble started. And by trouble, I mean Ratatouille.

Ratatouille, or Ratty Catty as he is more commonly known, is a stray cat who began living under my back deck right around the time Suz and Grace were in town. He is not nearly as cute as he looks in this picture. Believe me. He is much more raggedy and has a rat like tail (thus the name) and he does not take the time to clean the cat food off of his nose. I guess technically his is a Siamese type tail, which you would think I would like, given the whole Fabian love affair, but Ratty Catty is no Fabian. In fact, he is so tiny I assumed he was a girl. And the miniature version of a Siamese tail looks very ratty.

But whatever. So I began feeding the starving pathetic looking lurker who lived under my deck. How could I not? And obviously I named him. And not surprisingly, I began seeing more and more of him. The trouble is, of course, if you give a cat a cookie, soon he must be neutered. So I worked hard every day to gain his trust - intending to betray it at my earliest opportunity. This opportunity came just this past Friday.

So, hooray for me. I caught my feral cat. I did Bob Barker proud and had him neutered. Fine enough. Only he went home with a prescription for antibiotics. This, I think, was to clear up his head cold as I can't imagine that Clavamox is issued standard to every fixed feral. So now I have to keep him in my possession until his meds are gone. No problem. I can do this, right?

We've had a few carpet incidents. At first he would just pee where ever. And though I showed him the litter box, he assumed I was offering him a place to hide, not a place to pee. It wasn't until we brought in a box of top soil that the carpet soiling came to an end. Sort of. Cuz we found out after two days that the dirt must be changed every day. If not, Ratty Catty will revert to using the carpet as a toilet. A toilet where he leaves his antibiotic fueled diarrhea. Yeah. Hooray for me, indeed.

But at least I am just a renter, right? And I can hire a carpet cleaner when this is all over. And I am doing a good thing. And Ratty Catty and I are bonding. He never bites and sometimes purrs. And my does he love Monkey. So it is almost kinda cute.

Okay, so at 2:45 this morning Monkey wakes up. He wants to go out. But no way, he is an inside at night kitty. He can go out right before dawn, maybe, but not at 2:45. So I let him into Ratty Catty's room to use the cat box. So now Ratty wakes up. And I figure, he loves Monkey, I should let them play. Thus I let Ratty into the main room (which is not his first time, but close).

Fine enough. Only I am getting no sleep while they play. And by play, I mean fight. Cuz Monkey doesn't love Ratty the way Ratty loves Monkey. And both Monkey and OC are starting to wish they had chased Ratty off instead of being the pussies that they literally are.

So I watch Spanish soap operas while they come and go. I am happy to see that Mary Elena and Aldo have finally reunited after all these years. Though I figured this was where the story was going, things looked bleak after he was presumed dead on their wedding day after his plane crashed and he was kidnapped and forced to work for a drug cartel in the Amazon and meanwhile she had ended up joining a convent. I am even more thrilled to see that Ratty will come on the bed even when I am in it. I get to touch him once or twice. I am having a good day.

Until I realize there is pee on the comforter. Ratty was flirting with Monkey, I think, when he peed just a bit. Yeah, at 4 am. It was great. I was cold and had to decide between having fewer covers (and exposing the next layer down to more pee) or laying in a bed I knew had cat pee on it. I put on a thermal and ditched the comforter. But that was just a wee bit of pee (though OC reports it is also on the canopy) - no big deal, right?

So Ratty comes out from under the bed shortly after Erik comes home at 8 am. He's in his own room again all safe and sound and gets his morning meds. Great. Interestingly, it's the first time he acts like he'd rather not take them, but whatever. So why, oh why, do I let him out in the main room again? Cuz I am dumb. But I get dumber.

So it is afternoon now and I am thinking that Ratty is due a snuggle session. Only trouble is he is under the bed. Of course. So I try to lure him out with food and with Monkey. No go. So I try to lure him out with a broom. I guess that would not be "luring" so much as "forcing" but it has worked before. So I try.

He won't go. And soon I have scared the pee out of him. Literally. You would think at this point, with pee on my bed and now under it too, that I would let peeing cats lie. But no. I have to clean up the pee, right? I don't own a mop and so I do a shoddy job involving a bar towel and the broom. So I can be finished now, right? And take a shower, of course, cuz I am gross. But I get grosser.

Because now I want Ratty out more than ever. Cuz I was close once. I think I can do it. This time... This time... I can't even say it... This time he poops. Which I know because I hear it gurgling out of him. In the far far dark corner of the bed (under my pillow) where it can never ever be reached.

So now I want to die. Oh and by now Erik is in the bed. Sleeping. And now it smells. And I cannot air out the house or Ratty will escape. Which is starting to sound like a grand solution. But I need to finish his antibiotics. Far be it from me to help those antibiotic resistant bacteria become even more resistant.

So I try to clean the poop. Same method as before, but using paper towels and a broom. I only succeed in smearing it EVERYWHERE. At the same time I am able to chase Ratty out. He pauses on things in his path, leaving poop on them. He hides under the couch. I get him out from under the couch and he goes - to his room? No. That would be too good to be true. He runs to the kitchen sink and across the kitchen counter. Now I want us both to die. I catch him, lift him and toss him in his room (cuz he isn't in to being carried just yet and I am scared and he is covered in poop). But I cannot close the door in time.

So where is he now? Back under the bed, of course, in what will now be known forevermore as pooh corner. He is no longer remotely deterred by any further broom action. He pretends he is not there. At least his bowels are empty. I guess.

I have cleaned the smear (laying face down in a delightful collection of dust bunnies) and in the process I have presumably cleaned the pee. But I cannot reach it all. I know some is on the floor protector under the bed post. I can see it. And I know I can never get that out. And I know it is still all over Ratty. That cat who cannot be bothered to clean his milk mustache will surely not be in a hurry to clean the crap from his entire body. And it is on the brooms. Both of them. Even though I have hosed them off, they still hold pooh in their bristles. So now I need a new broom. And, I think, a mop.

But worst of all, I know I will smell cat poop from now until eternity. Every time I try to sleep I will remember this day. Oh how I used to love to sleep.

And this is why I am too stupid to live. Seriously, how can I outscore 99.6% of the people who want to go to law school and still be this stupid? I am depressed.

On a happier note, I totally enjoyed my visit with Princess Grace and sister Sue. Though we didn't get to all the things on our list, we did do the majority of them. We:

1. Stopped at In-n-Out on the way home from the airport. In fact, we stopped again on the way back to the airport. That visit was less successful and involved the spilling of ketchup and french fries in the car, but really, I blame myself. Ketchup should never be allowed in the car. And also, I don't care. Cuz it is only a car. (Incidentally, it is a car that now has Monkey pee on the front seat, cuz he too went to the vet on Friday to xray his broken-ish tail...)
   
2. Went to the beach - often. We only got wet once, though, cuz it was windy and the water was cold. It was hilarious cuz at first Grace did not approve of the kid friendly beach Erik had recommended. The waves were not big enough for her. Until she was in them, up to her arm pits, and then she was pleased.
   
3. Swam in the indoor pool at the hotel Erik picked. I don't think that you can call it warm, though. It might have been comfortable if we could have all swam, but I was the baby holder and I found it very very cold. Grace wouldn't trust Erik to keep her from drowning, which we think has a lot to do with Grandpa's campaign to convince Grace that Erik is a bad driver. Not sure why a bad driver couldn't keep a four year old's head above water, but the two skills seemed to be linked.
   
4. Walked in the March of Dimes / March for Babies. It was fun and worthwhile and together we raised over a thousand bucks, but I am officially calling it the Death March for Babies, because instead of the 6 miles advertised on the website it was 10 miles long, all very urban and often uphill. I kid you not, we crossed the freeway three times. I suddenly understood why our event had fewer people attending than the one in Tacoma. Though they faced rain and sleet in Washington, at least they got to walk around a park. And take shortcuts and stuff.
   
5. Ate giant pizza slices in Pismo. Yum. And Grace and I played inappropriate video games that involved shooting people.
   
6. Ate clam chowder out of sourdough bread bowls. Though I think the better chowder was a few doors down, our restaurant was right on the beach. And I had a killer salad.
   
7. Watched Dora the Explorer - but surprisingly only once. Signing Time (with Alex and Leah) was much more popular, at least with me and Grace. ASL is our thing.
   
8. Played on NickJr.com, but only when Suz wasn't on MySpace, cuz I found my aging iMac just can't handle the strain of all those graphics.
   
9. Played with the kitties - at least Monkey, as OC predictably made himself scarce. Grace loved Monkey and insisted on calling him Gus (the fat mouse from Cinderella).
   
10. Drank Diet Coke. We went through more than 48 cans and I swear I didn't have any.
    

We did not:

1. Stop at the winery that looks like a castle. And I did not make Grace a princess hat. Conveniently, she brought two tiaras of her own and I still have my fabulous crown from my queen costume, so we were all set for make believe...
   
2. Rent a surrey and ride it out the Rock to look at otters. We drove out in our car.
   
3. Stop for cotton candy on the way back, since we were now in our car.
   
4. Swim in the warm outdoor pool at the Inn at Morro Bay. Sadly.
   
5. Pay for parking in Pismo. We just parked at the hotel.
   
6. Have a dance party, though we did have a BBQ.
   
7. Build yet another graham cracker house. We figured it was a bit much for Grace and we really didn't have the space.
   

Anyway, in between having company and neutering Ratty Catty, I also made a trip to Sausalito to work with my elephant seal friends. There I surprisingly sucked, too, having trouble hitting the vein for my two blood draws. I'm pretty sure it is because I was trying in a new (inferior) spot and because I psyched myself out, but whatever. It was still fun.

And I think I am going up to the Center again this weekend, though I just heard a rumor I may not be needed. Which is a bummer cuz I was looking forward to sleeping in a hotel, where there is no cat poop under the bed.