Cats Rule The World

Back in the limbo days when we didn't know BD's surgery date and we assumed that both of us would be robustly able-bodied at all times, we accepted a house sit which overlapped our current one to the tune of 10 or so days.  The idea was that we would share the sits between the two of us and all would be sunshine and roses.  

Then Roger hurt his back on the day the second sit started. On the same weekend BD's room mates all went away and she became temporary kitty-litter-cleaner for two cats, with the small complication that she couldn't yet meet the physical requirements of kitty-litter-cleaning.  Which left me in charge of three cats, two dogs, and two incapacitated humans across three households and three lots of kitty litter. Unfortunately none of the cats for whom I had temporary kitty-litter responsibilities had completed the Human Toilet Training Course For Cats (yes, they were both enrolled!) so I was stuck with old-fashioned kitty-litter-cleaning duties.

 

Serve me, human!

Roger's back improved quickly. "I'm good to go!" He declared proudly whilst standing quite crooked with one hand on his wheelie walker. "I'll walk the dogs tomorrow! Oh, and I dropped my pen but I can't bend over. Can you pick it up?"  Which suggested that 'good to go' may have been a slight exaggeration.  It was bending over to pick up dog poo that twanged his back in the first place, so he was summarily banned from walking the dogs for at least a week. Alas, there is no Human Toilet Training Course for dogs.

Can't even train them to use a chair properly...

We spent our mornings on Dog Duty and our evenings in the new house sit, where the new cat (henceforth to be known as Chill Cat) demonstrated that his favourite game was playing Catch-the-Toes should they protrude from under the lap blanket. His claws were sharp: BD learnt to keep her toes very still and well covered by blanket and Chill Cat in turn learnt to burrow under the blanket in search of toes.  They ended the night with a truce declared and all toes intact as Chill Cat retired to sleep in the penthouse suite of his cat tower. We all heaved a sigh of relief and settled in to a quiet couple of days, staying home and laying low while La Nina sent the eastern seaboard (and Melbourne but thankfully not our bit) underwater.

A pink umbrella to brighten up the miserable weather.

Some things, however, were too good to be true.  Having sampled the delights of the Royal Melbourne once, BD couldn't stay away and back we went at midnight in the rain. At least her combo pack of bleeding, anticoagulants, and recent surgery guaranteed us a quick trip through triage and into a bed back of house.  Not that it was possible to sleep back there, but at least she had a bed and my seat was marginally more comfortable than the one in triage.

Bummer.

Of course it was Friday so she entered hospital purgatory for the weekend, being fragile enough to need hospitalisation and well enough that the necessary tests could wait until Monday.  To add trial to tribulation she was restricted to clear fluids, a ruling which rekindled her long-held disgust for the foul brew otherwise known as hospital jelly.  

We provided emergency rations of lemonade and apple juice before kissing her good night and heading off to attend to the kitty litter needs of the cat masters.

Tis indeed true that cats rule the world.