The Ancient One has now reached the point where he will blissfully pee or poop on fresh bedding a few moments after it’s been laid out. I am doing a minimum of three loads of laundry a day in a household of two people because I have to wash all of his soiled bedding, not to mention the cushions when he somehow manages to scrunch up the pee pad and tag them.
So we’re trying something new. I’ve just washed both of the cushion sets on the futon and I’ve applied a large plastic tarp over them, tucking the ends of the tarp under the cushions. The pee pads now rest on the tarp, and the bedding on the pee pads (yes, I could just have him sleep directly on the pee pads but he’s old, it’s gotten nippy here, and I don’t want him to risk catching a chill) so hopefully the cushions and the futon seat itself should remain protected from his overactive bladder.
And yes, his vet knows about this, has stated that sometimes old cats do this because they have dementia (which we already know J.J. has), and as long as he’s not showing any signs of discomfort there’s nothing really that we can do about this except cover things with plastic and wash his bedding as needed.
Which is what we’ll do. And once he crosses the Rainbow Bridge I’ll be dousing everything on the futon in My Pet Peed to discourage the rest of the J Crew from commemorate Uncle J.J. by following in his footsteps. In the meantime, I have laundry to do and an old cat to pet.
I have to admit, his fur has been incredibly soft and fluffy since I’ve been doing this. And he seems happier—in his dear addled mind it’s probably like his mom holding him down and washing him with her tongue. The only other cat who likes to be bathed this way is Jemma and that’s because she has incredibly thick fur and takes dust baths in the litter boxes if I don’t bathe her. So I’m not exactly the Cat Whisperer—I’m just working with the two who like a little extra help with cleaning (trust me, Jessica could give WWE pros a run for their money when I clean the poop around her butt. I pretty much have to wrap my arm around her tummy and clamp her down to the countertop while I scrub and she wails loudly that she’s being abused).
I would like to preface this by saying that I love J.J. to bits. He’s the cat of my heart, he’s been my bodyguard for over two decades, and I am so glad I had him in my life (the picture above features the mantel lights that we put up after taking down the Christmas lights because he can’t see very well anymore and it gives him a little more light at night. Also, all that bedding is so that I can switch it out after he pees on it).
Part of it is because it’s going on 10:52 AM and I still haven’t had breakfast yet.
And that is to post here more regularly. Granted, most of my writing these days is as 
So the Brit is off at his bimonthly game night. In his absence, I thought I’d wrap up the tax paper wrangling, then do a little quilting in celebration of National Quilting Day.
Someone, and since she’s the only one who does this I’m pretty damn sure that her name rhymes with Bessica, had decided to pee all over my scarf. Why? Who knows. Maybe she was feeling ignored, maybe Jas had sat on it and she felt like re-establishing her territory, maybe she just felt like peeing on it. Not only that, she also managed to tag the balls of yarn inside the bag. I was admit that a large quantity of profanity was called into use at this moment, and Jessica (shown at right) promptly hightailed it out of the living room because she knew damn well what she’d done.
Melanie Fletcher 