Relaxing shower time at Laurel’s house, a tranquil time I cut out for myself in my day. A time of pounding hot water, French milled soap delicately scented lathered over my body in fragrant slippery suds. It’s one of my favourite rituals of the day. That was before I got two kittens and a puppy just before Christmas.
The puppy is Izzy, a Corgle (corgi/beagle) who is now almost 4 months old.
The kittens are Annie and Dickens. They are about six months old.
I brought all the critters into the bathroom with me to contain their exuberance in a small space and not wake my husband. I had to move the cat box from the tub to on top of the toilet so I could shower. The reason it’s in the shower in the first place is that Izzy likes to eat the cat litter. I discovered the most affordable and wonderful cat littler, cat owners take note! It’s pine pellets you buy at hardware stores. The little wood pellets don’t cause respiratory problems like clay cat litter does with all its dust. In addition the pine pellets cost only $4 for a 40lb bag whereas the clay cat litter cost me $17 for a 10 lb bag! The best part is that it never smells bad. It has a woodsy smell. That’s where Izzy comes in. She likes to eat the cat litter because it tastes like one of her favourite food groups, sticks. So I’ve learned to keep it in the tub where she can’t get into it.
During my shower the three of them were tearing around my small bathroom causing bangs, thumps, crashes and no end of animal sounds but I was determined not to let them interfere with my relaxing time. I turned up the temperature of the water and hummed “How much is that doggy in the window” louder to try to block the cacophony coming from the other side of the shower curtain.
When I was drying off (and Izzy was drying off my feet for me lick-lick-giggle) the cats jumped into the bathtub, I assumed to lick the warm water from the tub. But no. Dickens needed to pee which he did at the top of the tub with Annie playing in it and (super ew) licking it as it flowed past her. At which I screeched and grabbed Annie to put her in the sink to wash her which was a bloody affair accompanied by screaming (me) and hysterical barking (Izzy) and some not mild complaining by Annie. Frustrated at not being part of the fun, Izzy jumped up and unrolled the toilet paper and attacked it in a barking whirlwind of puppy mayhem. When I get Annie cleaned off I look over to see Dickens sitting in his urine, so I grab him and hold him over the sink while I try to hose out the tub before Annie could jump back in…too late. So I put both cats in the sink and cover them with a towel and one arm while I try to hose out the tub and spray disinfectant into the tub.
That worked almost as well as a sieve works at holding back a tsunami. The cats jumped down on top the dog and they began a furious fight. I left them to it, cleaned the tub, replaced the catbox then washed them one by one and tossed the clean ones out the door as I went. When all the critters were loudly making tracks away from the bathroom, I sat in the ruins of the bathroom, torn up shreds of toilet paper sticking to my legs, me bleeding quietly from many places and smelling slightly of wet dog and cat pee and I thought about how much I used to enjoy my quiet shower times. A time to contemplate, relax, think and plan the joys of the day ahead. In one such contemplative shower I birthed the thought about the joys of getting a puppy.