Back to the drama…
Normally I would say that I hate when life gets in the way of work. But last week, life was good. The family went to a nice little part of the world called Isle of Palms, SC. A little community just north of Charleston SC, we had a great time hanging out on the beach, the pool and with the three other families that we went with. In total 17 people shared a four bedroom beach house. If anyone was driving from Charleston up interstates 26/77/81/64 on Saturday, I was in the van loaded down with bicycles, kids, beach toys all while leaving a trail of sand on the road. The van loaded down with all the above, driving about 95 miles an hour, with Granny tied down to the roof like the Beverly Hillbillies were our friends Jason and Melissa.
Almost four years ago, we added a kitten to the family. She was named Elizabeth to honor my daughter and wife’s matching middle name. My daughter is blessed to have my natural ability to spell, or better said my natural ability to invent new ways to spell standard words. A couple years ago, she was trying to write Elizabeth a letter and spelled her name Elizaboof. Instantly we changed the cat’s name and started calling her Boof. Little Miss Boof has been a wonderful addition to the family, up to the last month. Lately she has using her litter box, sporadically at best. Last night it all went bad. My wife caught her using the carpet as a toilet. Bad things for little Boof.
One of our neighbors has been caring for a stray cat for over a year. Two months ago, the stray gave birth to a litter of kittens. The last few weeks, my wife and I have been discussing the possibility of adding another cat to our family. My initial statement was no, and my wife agreed. But as time went on, our neighbor was having trouble placing the kittens. Her demands were that the cats were to be with a family that would keep them indoors and provide a loving home. I would have thought that was a very low standard, but maybe not. Finally, I broke and said that we could add a kitten to our family. My wife was surprised that I caved in first, she called me a sucker. That is better than other things I have been called.
My daughter’s birthday was Friday. She turned nine and we told her while we were at the beach. Of course she was ecstatic. On Sunday, we went to the neighbor’s house and picked a kitten. Unsure of what to name the little monster, my daughter wanted Fluffy. At the time, we thought she was a he and I laid down the law. There is no way I was going to have a boy cat named Fluffy. I suggested BoBo, my daughter said no! Back and forth we went, I even offered a compromise of BoFlo. Turns out the little stinker is a girl, so Fluffy she is.
This morning we went to the Vet. Initial check-up for Fluffy and counseling for Boof. Here is what we found out. All of you probably know this because y’all is smart. Cats do not fail to use their litter box because they are angry, vindictive, or evil (I thought she was ticked off at us for going on vacation). They fail to use their litter box because of a change of litter (which is not our issue), a traumatic event for the cat when they are using the box (we don’t think this is our cause), cleaning solutions, scented pads, or other foreign scents to the cat (We hope this is our problem). In an effort to mask the aroma from the litter box, we added a scented pad under the litter box. We bleached the litter box and just to make things impossible for Boof, we put a lemon scented air freshener in the room. Three strikes and we were out. We are trying to put the wheels back on for Boof, and I hope this information proves helpful for you guys in the future.
No more cat stories for you guys, EVER! I promise. Next time you’re getting an old school war story. Until then, keep on rockin’!