Secondly, I am remembering why I was not such a big fan of cats in the house.
1) Cat hair. I was putting my sweatshirt on this morning, and roamed around to do the morning tasks. When I finally started cooking lunch, I was done with the cornbread and well into the taco soup when I realized that I had enough white hair on my shirt to fully fur a month-old kitten. Not cool. Especially when you consider that 90% of my wardrobe is either navy blue, black, or brown. Plus for some reason there is apparently some attraction at the molecular level between the cat hair and the couch. It doesn't just hang out on the top of the fabric waiting to be vacuumed, it must be taken out with tweezers, much like plucking one's eyebrows, but I guess it doesn't hurt quite as bad.
2) Cat cuddling. Now don't get me wrong. There's nothing like having a
warm body to sleep near, especially when one tends to be a bit cold-blooded to start with. But when said body purrs to no end, and insists on nuzzling one's face (Yes it has to be the face. Not the neck, or back, or leg, or arm. The face.) sleeping with Phoebe can be especially challenging.
3) Cat on counter. Fluffer is probably more of a nuisance in this
particular category, but Phoebe has had her share of counter time too. They can have a perfectly full container of cat chow or fancy feast, or whatever the meal of the moment is, and they still insist on hopping up on the counter to lick, paw, and smell whatever it is that we ate, are eating or will eat. Cat-lick-marks in the butter is my absolute limit. I guess it has made me be certain everything is either covered, or put in the refrigerator remove the temptation.
4) And last, but not least, cat pee. Cat waste is probably the one thing
about indoor cats that make me the most crazy. Cleaning out the cat box,
isn't exactly my idea of a favored hobby. Although, I must say the clumping and deodorizing properties of kitty litter have come a long, long way since my last house cat in the late '80s. My dislike of cat pee probably stems from the fact that one time, my family bought a house in which no amount of shampooing could remove the smell of cats, so we ended up ripping up the carpet and replacing part of the sub-floor due to the seepage. Now if that doesn't give you a real mental picture.... So you can imagine my surprise and disgust when I walked into the bathroom last night to find...Phoebe. The 'good' cat. Peeing. On. My New Rugs. AAAaaarrrggghhh. I'm not sure what was going on there. She's the one I usually don't have to worry about. She's neat and clean. Her paws and fur are always meticulous. Why oh why was Phoebe peeing on my rugs?
Maybe because they're brown? Or because they had straw all over them from the inside of Ben's socks, pants and shirt? Or because Scott had dropped some dirt/manure on them from his spring-time dirty clothing? Who knows. All I know is that Phoebe got a healthy thunk on the head with my thumb and forefinger and a quick trip outside. Maybe she'll learn. Or maybe she'll learn to be an outside cat with occasional inside privileges....
We'll just have to wait and see.