WARNING....the story I am about to tell is exceedingly disgusting (and hilarious)! Anyone with a weak stomach, STOP READING NOW.
According to which doctor you talk to, I have migraines, PTSD, Multiple Sclerosis, or crazy depression (only 2 of those are factual....and this is not the gross or funny part). Anyway, on this particular day, I was in a crazy, unrelenting amount of pain, extremely exhausted, and all I wanted was to curl up with my Tigger and try to sleep it off. All 3 of our cats had other plans. This is Tigger.
Moop, the first cat to join our family, bombed the litter box (I never understand how this happens....I mean, they eat the same damn thing every day). So, the stench thereof had to be addressed.
Next, Eddie, the third cat to join and terrorize our house (he makes 2 or 3 appearances in this story), left a cling on (piece of poop), on the darkened stairs down to my room. I, of course, discover the poop with Tigger in my arms and my bare right foot. I'll insert his pic here so you can accurately visualize the trouble maker that he is. And yes, he opened that cabinet himself and climbed in.
After I got the mess cleaned up, I curled up in bed with Tig to rest and feel better... Eddie had other plans. As I'm trying to fall asleep, I start to hear a strange noise and sat up to listen. After a minute I remembered that I left some magazines on the floor next to the recliner (this is where it starts to get funny in a gross sort of way), and I thought it was Eddie licking the magazines (he has a ridiculous paper fetish). So, I yelled at Eddie to knock it off. I lay back down, Tig in my arms, drifting off to sleep, and then I hear more noises... new noises. Again I sat up, listened, looked around in the dark, and I see Eddie on top of my dresser eating a beautiful arrangement of silk flowers I had in a vase. I started yelling, "EDDDDDIIIIEEEEE! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!", which he promptly did. (When it comes to Eddie I often find myself saying, "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BUT I HATE YOU SO BAD!", over and over and over.
It starts to get really gross here. Apparently when Eddie left my room, he continued his badness upstairs and I began to get texts from my husband who was working upstairs in his office. The first text said something to the effect - What has this fucking cat (Eddie), been eating?! I text Mike about the flower and magazine incident and asked why....what happened? His response was that the little prick was puking piles in the hallway outside his office. Being the wonderful husband that he is, he cleaned up the piles of nastiness. Thanks, honey!
Still, the fun continued. Here comes the grossest part of the night. Finally, all was quiet, I was snuggled up under the covers, I had Tigger curled up in my arms, his little face resting on my face....off to sleep we went. And then it happened...my beloved Tigger DROOLED. IN. MY. MOUTH!!!!!!!! I have never been so sicked out in my life! I simultaneously flung Tigger off me with my left arm while my right hand wiped and grabbed sheets to shove in my mouth, and I spit, and I gagged! Tigger, of course, was oblivious as to why he was suddenly flying in his sleep.
I ended the night with one last text to my husband that went something like this: ME - Tigger just drooled in my mouth and it is the grossest thing that has ever happened to me! MIKE - That is a visual I don't think will ever leave my mind.
I'll post one final pic of the demonic little beasts that live with us and whom we love so much but hate so bad.