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*WARNING: CONTAINS GRAPHIC REFERENCES TO CAT PUKE.*

Rubber gloves, antibacterial spray and kitchen towel, it seems.

Cat Daddy: “Where’s the hallway doormat gone?”

Me: “I had to put it outside to dry.”

Him: “That was ages ago. I thought I’d brought it back in?”

Me: “You did.”

Him: “So what’s it doing back outside?”

Me: “…”

Him: “Oh God. He didn’t … did he?”

Me: “…”

Him: “AGAIN?”

Yes, and this time it was worse: as I came downstairs I could just make out, in the half-light, a convenient sausage-shaped package of puke on the hallway floor. Not great, but at least I would be able to easily clean it off the wooden floorboards, in one sweep.

Then, when I switched on the light, the full  horror of the situation became apparent. There was a lot more than I thought, and most of it was, once again, on the textured doormat. The convenient sausage-shaped package told only half the story, with the other half being a complete fright-fest of random splatters all over the mat.

So there I was, back outside with a steaming kettle. Again.

Cat Daddy then did some spewing of his own, except that his consisted of the customary Unrepeatable Expletives interspersed with, “He’s on his way out, you know. It’s the beginning of the end, and it’s going to cost us a fortune in vet bills.”

No, it’s not. He’s eaten a bit of grass. But if it makes you feel better to be dramatic about it, fine. 

Anyway, Catorze appears to be completely fine now. However, as the weather warms up and he starts spending more time outside, I expect there will be more of this. 

For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com