I Love Lucy

How can I not love Lucy?  She is my adorable companion and to Maurice.  She is no ordinary cat, she is a wanting cat. 
I want you to play with me, I want to go out, I want to eat, and I want this and that.  The list goes on and giving in to her whims, exhausts me, especially at day break. 
Hack, cough, hack, I heard around 4 am.  It was Lucy trying to get the hairball or having one of her bulimic moments.  Eat and purge.  Then it was quiet for a moment.  Next thing, she did her running fit with her special cat sound effect. Jump on the bed, run beside me, above my head and rested there.  This is not a good time, Lucy, 30 more minutes and I will rise to go to work.  I need my beauty sleep.  But she won’t budge.  So, I threw her out of bed and I might as well do the same.  Remembering that she just did the hacking fit, I was careful not to step on land mine or mines. 
And here comes Lucy again, jumped on the bed, squatted and did No. 2, yes, No. 2.  I watched her with horror.  Plop one, plop two, plop three steaming mounds.  Fully formed not runny.  Oh my goodness, Lucy.  Why?  Think on the bright side, I thought, it’s not runny, okay? 
Deep breath, the smell of poopies on my bed, I remained calm, cool and collected.  That is I collected the poops.  Then took out the first layer of the bed sheet. 
Here comes Lucy again.  Doing the two steps and dropped her fat body on top of the soft duvet.  She quietly got up, circled where she sat down and smelled it.  I smelled urine.  Lucy did No. 1. That did it. Urine is the worst thing.  Lucy, you are now grounded, no food for you all day. 
The bedding must be removed quickly, cleaned the spot and poured out a box full of baking soda all over the bed to soak up the smell.  What a cat-astrophy.
Shame on you, Lucy

Shame on you, Lucy

The things I do for my cats.  I love Lucy. 
 
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