Here's another reason why I can't let just anyone read this blog. If it was open to everyone on the web, my housemate might see this and it might not make her very happy. My housemate has a cat. Well, maybe a little less than a cat. His name is Dobby (after some character from Harry Potter, I'm told) and he comes from Kahunda, Tanzania. He has only three toes on each foot and one claw altogether, has crossed eyes, very bad depth perception, poor balance, and selective bladder control. Basically, he is the poster child for the dangers of inbreeding. Before my housemate was my housemate, I enjoyed playing with Dobby when I visited. I'd tickle his tummy, he'd try to bite me, and then I'd leave at the end of the night and return to my clean, fresh-smelling home. Now that Dobby also lives in my house, I do not have a clean, fresh-smelling home to which to return. No, instead my house smells like cat. And my bathroom (which is right next to my bedroom) smells like cat litter (and has said litter strewn all over the floor). And the furniture (which, thankfully, is not mine, but belongs to my housemate) smells like cat and is covered with a dusting of cat fur.
Dobby has always had a bit of trouble determining appropriate places to relieve himself. Because of his penchant for peeing on my bed, my carpet, my clean laundry, I no longer leave my bedroom door open (which may not seem like a big deal, but when you live in Africa, and your house is not air-conditioned, there is this little thing called a cross-breeze which would be ever so helpful in keeping my room from becoming a stuffy sauna.) I have no idea how much cat pee is in the carpets of this house, and I'd rather not think about it because it really grosses me out (a new spot appeared just the other morning.) There have been a number of occasions when we have found evidence that even "Number 2" does not always make it into the litter box. And I've recently discovered, to my horror, that Dobby is also "spraying" to mark his territory. Can anything be more disgusting? I am, in response, burning copious amounts of incense, venting almost daily to Sheryl on MSN, and daydreaming about the myriad ways I can contrive Dobby's death.
4 comments:
Oh dear. That must be a pretty bad cat if Heather Epp doesn't like him. He sounds gross.
I'm over cats completely so even our cats, who I think would be classed in the average to good range, inspire intense rage in yours truly. If Dobby lived at my house the "lived" part probably wouldn't last very long.
Ha ha! Yep, I think Dobby could come to a tragic fate and it would be better for everyone... maybe even a not-so-tragic fate! I do have a cat at home, but she is a very clean cat, so I can't complain. She even wakes me up in the morning at promptly 7am by jumping onto my bed and purring very loudly, staring at me. It's really cute. I guess you wouldn't want Dobby to do that.. he's probably pee on your face...
Ha ha ha! Nice picture! It adds so much! I could put Dobby on my tree if you want?
Miss Epp, I could not stop laughing when I read this post about Dobby. My stomach hurts now. And, you know, my offer to eliminate that cat still stands!
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