By Jim Hagarty
The mind of a cat, assuming there is such a thing, is a very curious apparatus, apparently.
Today was such a beautiful day I let Mario and Luigi out in the backyard to run around after lunch. I watched them from the kitchen window as I washed some dishes and I smiled at how much they seemed to be enjoying the delights of an early spring.
Then I saw both of them eating grass. Hmmm. This is what cats do when they need to get rid of fur and other crap inside them but can’t get it out any other way. They eat lawngrass and for some reason, this makes them hurl. Presto, changeo, happy cats. Bad stuff gone.
I was thinking about the wonders of all this as I washed a cup when I suddenly remembered the other part of this equation, at least the way it plays out at our place. For a reason I cannot explain, the cats have designated our garage as their own personal vomitorium. They will drag themselves on their little cat knuckles and knees across the yard to make sure they make it inside the garage door before they hurl.
I remembered this little wonderful fact of life as I stood at the sink and heard the telltale pre-hurl sounds every cat makes. They arch their back, and move their head as though possessed by a demon. They look like they are in need of an exorcism and not just a stomach purge.
Now, our garage floor is all concrete which makes cleaning up this lovely mess at least bearable. Soak the stuff in vinegar, take some paper towels, etc. But this is where it gets even freakier. We have one small carpet out there at the base of the steps which we use to keep our feet warm as we pull on our boots in winter. Apparently, in this game of Curling (my name for Cat Hurling), there are extra points for the darling that can spew his innards on that little woven carpet from which puke is very hard to extract.
So, to recap, our lot comprises 7,854 square feet. To a cat that stands eight inches high, it must seem as though we own the Ponderosa. Acres of grass to chew. But, only one little place to toss the old cookies.
If it sounds as though I am complaining, don’t get me wrong: I meant to make it sound as though I am complaining.
If I haven’t made myself clear, I hate cleaning up cat barf!
Love the sinner, hate the sin!
Love the cat, hate the barf!