URP! I ate cat spit!

I had a pretty non-productive, lazy as a coon dog layin' in the sun, day yesterday... and I woke up this morning, feeling on top of the world.

See, yesterday, when I woke up... I did a few minor chores around the house, took a shower, put fresh jammies on and then did a whole lot of nuthin' for the rest of the day.
I read a bit, paid some bills and slept a lot.

I sat down at 11 to watch a little Flight Of The Conchords and dozed off, only waking when I heard the Old Guys key in the lock.
He made me a cuppa, we talked for a bit, saying nothing much of any consequence, and then he went home to do his laundry.
He always has to do his laundry when I want him to help out around around the house.

It's frustrating, but I've got to admit he always has clean towels.

Now, with the Old Guy, I don't ask much of him around here and I sure as hell don't tell him much of anything anymore - for a couple of reasons.

1. Is that he never listens anyway, and it just tends to go in one ear and out the other.

2. Is that it saves on arguments.

At least we don't get into a row because he says "no, you never told me that" when I know that I did, and we don't end up with the whole "yes I did", "no you didn't", "yes I did so tell you", no you did not", never ending argument.

So anyway, as soon as he left around 2 o'clock, I went right back to sleep, sitting up in the chair.
(have I told you that I love my new lounge suite? My chair is so comfortable and cozy that I'm thinking of making it my new bed)

Then the Old Guy came back at 6-ish (waking me up again in the process) and we ended up having leftovers for dinner, while watching a bit of Funniest Home Videos... then we talked a bit more, and an hour later, he went home again.
I did another few little things around the house, played on the computer for a few minutes, read a bit more and then got ready to go back to bed with my book.

But before him heading home, and me off to bed, the Old Guy fed the cats for me.

They have their own little bowls, so he fed them all, but as a special treat for Jazzy, I usually pour a bit of milk in her special little pink bowl, add a tiny amount of butter to it and then add a bit of hot water to it, to melt the butter.
To Jazzy, this is about as close to heaven as it gets, and it's kind of like her night time kitty chocolate.
It's the purrfect way to finish off her day, you know what I mean?

So anyway, before he left, the Old guy got a bowl out, filled it as usual for Jazzy, put it on the counter, and then headed home... and I headed off for my date with the sandman.

And I might as well admit to y'all right now, yes, I (and the Old Guy) do feed her on the counter - mainly as a way of keeping the other cats away from her nightly "treat" and to keep me from stepping in a bowl of milk and falling and breaking a hip or something.
(Not that that's any big worry, because my bones are in pretty good shape, thank you very much... but when you start to get older, you start to worry about this kind of stupid crap, and at some stage, those little Medic-alert doo hickies that you can press the button and say stuff like "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up", well... they start to look more and more attractive - you know what I mean?)

Now remember that I said that I never tell the Old Guy anything?
Because this is what happens?

Well, that includes the fact that I bought some new "decorated with cute pictures" dishes for the kids. Plates and bowls, with adorable little matching mugs.

I did however, tell him that the old bowls could now be used as cat dishes, but I never specifically told him about, or showed him the new ones, or told him that they have cute little kiddie-type decorations on them.

So what did he use when he fed Jazz?
A new "special" bowl of course.
Not that I paid any attention, because quite frankly, I was itchin' for my date with Mr Sandman, and just wanted to get the Old Guy out the door.

So anyhow, I woke up this morning, had my first cuppa of the day outside, while watching and listening to the birds.
And then I came in and decided to have a bowl of cereal.

So when I saw the brand new, cute little Fairy Princess bowl on the counter, I decided that I would use that one... never ever thinking that it might have been the one the Old Guy had used for Jazzy's nightly treat.

It wasn't until after I had eaten the whole bowl of cereal that it dawned on me that I had just used the same exact bowl for my cereal, that he had given to Jazzy.

The bowl was totally and completely licked clean of all traces of milk, looking to me like a clean bowl and ready to be used....

But there was plenty of cat-spit in there, I'm sure.

So I ate a bowl of cereal this morning, with a side of cat-spit.
URP!


I've brushed my teeth twice, and had a complete rinse and another gargle and spit with mouthwash. ( I debated using vodka as a rinse and then decided against it, because it was too early in the morning to start drinking and I knew I would want to swallow it.)

But I swear... I can still taste slimey cat germs.

And maybe that's a furball lodged in my throat... or maybe it's just my imagination.


I'll probably survive, but if I get any urges to lick my bottom, or spit on my hands to wash behind my ears, I'll be sure and let you know.


So if you see me doing some weird kind of contortions, please call the vet...I probably have worms or sumthin'.

Never mind, I'm going for that vodka now....