I got home from work at nine. I fed the beasts, let Tess out to go potty, and then fed her too. Of course, she didn't want food, she wanted a cookie. So she glued herself to the cookie cabinet, blocking the refrigerator and the door to the cookie cabinet so that I couldn't get either one open.
Not helpful, dog.
Meanwhile Willow was screaming at me for her food.
Her bowl was on the floor next to Percy's. He was hogging out. Willow apparently was so distressed by the fact that she believed she had not gotten her bowl that she continued to wail.
I picked her up and put her next to her bowl. She fell silent and began to hog out.
I made the litter box rounds. I cleaned the two downstairs. They were overflowing with crap, literally. Keep in mind I had already scooped them a couple of times that day. Once in the morning and once when I went home for lunch. So the overflowing thing baffled me. But, I'm used to it, so I scooped away. Then I got the vacuum cleaner and sucked up all the litter that had been flung hither and yon, scattered all over the tile floor.
That's when I noticed the small pile of diarrhea that Percy at left on the tile by the steps. I then had to bleach the vacuum cleaner since I rolled it over the diarrhea, and bleach the floor. And vacuum the floor some more, dump the canister (luckily the vacuum didn't suck up the poop, it just got its wheels full of it. I mean, that's a $600 Dyson vacuum. I'd have been PISSED), and vacuum some more.
It still smelled downstairs.
Whatever, it was past nine and I didn't feel like lighting a candle.
I then remembered the carpet cleaner and paper towels were under the coffee table where I'd left them after cleaning up a pile of puke at lunch time. I'm assuming Puckett's pile of puke, most of which she probably already ate. So I finished cleaning the carpet, gathered up the bleach, carpet cleaner, paper towels, trash can, and pooper scooper, and went upstairs to clean the two litter boxes there.
Willow raced after me to jump into her cage and wait for her food. Never mind that she just ate. So I put her bowl in there with her and reached for her litter box.
I'd forgotten that I'd dumped the whole box earlier and forgot to put in fresh litter. I pulled the box out of the cage and promptly splashed myself, the floor, and the wall with pee that someone had felt the need to eliminate in the box even though it was empty.
Willow, no doubt.
She's done it before. Even if there is no litter in the box, she'll just squat in it anyway. It was my fault for forgetting the litter, and they don't really use that box during the day anyway. I guess I can't be too mad at her as she did use the box, but come on. Seriously? There are three other boxes she can use.
I went to the bathroom and rinsed myself off. Then I rinsed out the box. Then I got my bucket from the laundry closet, filled it with vinegar and warm water, and went about mopping the entire floor upstairs, including the wall, and the steps. I also mopped the bathroom floor and the hallway to the bathroom floor.
There is a reason why I have torn almost all of my carpeting out of the house.
I put litter in Willow's box, stuffed the box in her cage with her and her food, and scooped out the box underneath the cage.
I'd already mopped the floor so at least I didn't need to vacuum.
Finally everything was cleaned up. I put the vacuum away, dumped the bag of crap outside (where it was SUPER windy and cold - I nearly blew to Oz), stashed all my cleaning supplies, and put away the wash bucket.
Then I took a shower, because, well, ew. I had pee splashed all over me.
When I showered I was finally ready to eat and get into bed, except that I'd lost my appetite. I turned on a movie on my laptop, put on my pajamas, and decided to get a drink from the kitchen. I went downstairs and there was Percy, sprawled across my countertop next to the stove because I'd forgotten to lay the tinfoil down (which I've had to start doing since the little jerk has decided the area where I PREPARE FOOD is his new throne). He looked at me. I looked at him.
I yelled. He fled.
I spread tinfoil on the counter, got my (nonalcoholic) drink, and went back upstairs to watch my movie and cry.
It was about eleven o'clock by then and I should have just gone to sleep, but I stayed up and watched my movie. Tess slunk into the corner of the bedroom. Willow was in her cage. Puckett was on the dog bed. I don't know where Percy went, but a few minutes later he started thundering through the house, apparently deciding that then was the perfect time to get the kitty rips. Or maybe it was just revenge for not being allowed to sprawl across the counter.
Sometimes at work I think about going home to my pets, and suicide seems like the better option.
And they just look so innocent...