Meet Pippa and Charlie. Charlie’s in the foreground. He’s about five months old. He indiscriminately loves all food, and on a related note, he farts like an old man. We got Charlie to be company for Pippa.
As Pippa grew from the six-week old kitten we fostered, it became increasingly clear that she is not a social kitty. She loves her window seat and her cat treats and chasing bugs in the back yard at twilight. The Professor and I are somewhere down on her list after her second-favorite scratching post…well third-favorite, if you count the sofa. At only about eight months old, she became so neurotic and reclusive that she didn’t even like to be touched.
After talking to some friends with multiple cats, we decided to get a sweet, gregarious boy kitty. Charlie fits the bill, and miraculously our plan worked! Pippa is about a thousand times happier now that she’s not the center of attention. She and Charlie are pals. They clean each other’s ears and wrestle, and every day their respective personal space bubbles shrink. Pippa even likes us more, but nothing will ever sever her first love, the window seat.
A few nights ago, The Professor begged me to stay up with him and watch Rocky. I’d never seen Rocky. Why? Because I have no brothers so we didn’t watch movies like Rocky. My sister and I watched My Little Ponies and Beauty and the Beast and the six-hour version of Pride and Prejudice. The Professor has taken it upon himself to indoctrinate me into the world of boy movies – Rocky, Hoosiers, and an entire cannon of badly dubbed kung fu movies.
But now I have seen Rocky. All I have to say is this:
Finally, just as the big fight scene was starting, I decided I could resist sleep no longer. Just one more thing before bed- scoop the cat litter. It’s my every-other day chore that I dread and procrastinate.
Just as I was scooping the cat litter, Pippa and Charlie came in and decided to both use the littler box at once, side by side in an awkward group poop huddle.
It was all working out fine until Charlie finished first and reached around for litter to bury his business. That’s when Pippa pooped on his head. That’s also when I knew I wouldn’t get much sleep.
Charlie was rushed to the sink where, under extreme duress, he and his poop-matted fur got a bath – arms sprawled, claws activated – ready to hook onto anything, and meowing like he was being slowly mutilated. This is also when Pippa came to investigate the cries of her partner in crime. Now we had one cat in the sink covered in Seventh Generation Lavender Dish Soap (whose label states that although it’s not meant for consumption, it’s non toxic), and one cat on the rim of the sink crying in sympathy. And Rocky was losing to the guy from Arrested Development. And I too was covered in poop. And the sound of my morning alarm clock was growing closer by the second.
With all the poop finally washed away, Charlie was wrapped in a towel. That’s when Pippa, who loves water, got jealous. Now we had a shivering kitten in a towel and a howling cat in the sink wanting her turn to play in the water.
We are magnets for weird animals.
I passed Charlie to the professor and turned on the water for Pippa, but she changed her mind in favor of checking on her kitten, alternately attacking and cleaning him.
Finally at nearly 1 a.m., it was my turn to get the cat poop off me and collapse onto the bed.
Isn’t Pippa sweet? She decided to help Charlie dry off.
And that is the story of why I splurged on a sugar-free vanilla latte the next morning.