Deborah Lipp

I don’t even know why I went into Arthur’s bathroom. I was suspicious of some manner of feline behavior. I was butt nekkid, being about to step into the shower, when I just peeked in there to see what the Gang of Two was up to, and I discovered (the horror)…

that some unnamed member of the Gang had peed all over the bathroom rug.

So I picked up the rug and put it in the tub and washed the bathroom floor and then rinsed and wrung (yuck. just yuck) the rug in the tub. Then the tub needed washing and I realized that the rug was dripping. Not so much dripping as running rivers of foul-smelling yellow you-know-what. So I left it in the tub and stopped to think how I would get it downstairs to the washing machine without dripping all over the house.

So I went downstairs (still! nekkid! and ducking! past windows) and put last night’s wash in the dryer (which necessitated getting night-before-last night’s wash out of the dryer) and emptied the downstairs hamper and brought it up.

But before I did that I realized that the reason this horror had happened was because of a state of unacceptable (to the Gang) uncleanliness in the box de litter so I stopped to empty it and clean it and refill it.

So then I put the dripping rug into the hamper and sprayed the tub with cleanser and only now do I realize the hamper has vents and puddles are forming underneath. So I get some old raggy towels and put them in the hamper under the rug to sop up the yuck and another one on the floor to sop up THAT yuck.

Then downstairs (two flights. Did I mention the two flights?) to get the rug into the wash and then back up to clean the floor (again) and the tub.

Then I took a shower.

So. Yuck.