Click was sick for a long time. The Secret Lair smells like a crazy cat lady’s apartment, and while I’m working on it I’m not sure there’s enough baking soda in the world to completely remove the stench. It certainly hasn’t been removed yet. There’s no practical reason to miss her, frankly. I hope I can undo the damage she did without actually pulling up the floor.
I liked Click, and I admired her. She handled the dangers of her environment intelligently, and intelligence is frankly not a real common trait in cats. She dealt well with the dogs; even Ghost accepted her. She was crippled and in pain, wasn’t going to get anything but worse, and it was time to do what I did. But doing it has really depressed me.
I have gathered everything (I think) I need to replace/expand the chickens’ enclosure, a short weather window to get it done, and I should have gotten a lot more work done today than I did. The chickens are a mess. They’re stressing out and need more room. I need to get out of this funk and do my job.
Speaking of that: You know what this is?
It’s a fencepost driver. Weighs a little less than 20 pounds. It’s hollow. You slide it over a T-rail, grab the handles, and bang the rail into the ground with it. Works great, while also providing excellent cardio exercise. What I didn’t know about it until today is that a mouse might also consider it a fine place to build a nest. Unfortunately, the mouse did not see fit to exit the driver when I picked it up and started to use it. The result was…gruesome.
Normally I don’t consider it a bad thing when a mouse leaves the world, however violently. But somehow accidentally killing this one upset me even more. I’ve got to shake off this mood. Alcohol isn’t doing anything but making me more morose. And now this urine stink is really getting on my nerves, when it barely bothered me while Click was still alive.
Hey,
Go outside, take a few deep breaths, and look around you.
Everything is fine. You are fine. You are grieving Click, as you should be doing. I am so sorry you and she had to say goodbye. I am so glad she left from your caring arms.
And, you might try crying to make you feel better. That’s what tears are for: a shower from the heart.
Peace to you.
**
ff
I’m sorry, Joel. BTDT, more times than I care to think about. Two weeks ago we lost our youngest cat to cancer and our two oldest are also both terminal, on pain meds and each day we access and decide if it’s time. This is family and loosing them hurts like hell. The funk will pass; it always does, but they never leave your heart.
Love on your doggies, especially LB since he’s lost his mama and is probably grieving too.
Being human is hard sometimes. One must morn. You’ve lost a part of the puzzle that makes “The Lair” what it is. Give yourself time to adjust.
As to the urine – vinegar works sometimes to neutralize the smell.
There are some enzyme preparations specially for taking the smell of cat piss away. they have the advantage over baking soda, vinegar and the like, that they don’t leave salts behind to corrode nails and screws, or stain and damage wood finishes, rugs and mats, and they don’t leave there own smell behind. check the pet store. they’re expensive but well worth it.
Before we separated, the total count for the house was 7 chinchillas, we were down to 2 guineapigs (from a peak of 5 + a rabbit) 10 cats, three dogs, 2 budgies, 7 fieldmice and 3 very tame hens. the hens and most of the chinchillas had their own houses although one chinchilla lived loose in the bedroom for over a year.
one of the cats (she still has it) has more feet than teeth and is also creatively incontinent; the dish draining rack or the bowl of the kitchen scales are favourite places, and it twice woke me up by pissing on me… my laptop, printer and scanner were also favourite targets.
It was not unusual to get to work (I’m not good at mornings) and wonder where the smell of cat piss was coming from – and find it was my “clean” shirt, trousers or socks.
I know exactly what you mean about the emotional roller-coaster (we were typically at the vets 3 nights a week – and I was paying).
I’ll second feralfae’s suggestion on the tears. Stress chemicals build up in the system that are released through tears. It’s probably not just about Click either, but throw in Zoe and the glaucoma and top it off with all the little things that have been going amiss lately and it becomes a stress volcano building pressure and waiting to erupt.
While the weather is nice for a day, open the doors and windows and let in the fresh air and sunshine. That may help the smell, if not the funk.
What Keith says. Nature’s Miracle. Available anywhere petstuff is sold. Possibly also at your local grocery store. Stuff is amazing.
I’m so sorry about Click. And even the poor, damned mouse. Must have been pretty much a shock.
I am sorry for your loss. and for the flat mousey too. Click would have appreciated it.