Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Perfume and Poop

You know what one of the most horrifying smells in the world is? 

Perfume and poop. 

. . .  . . .  . . . 

. . . yes. You see, my last two foster kittens Billy and Nellie were diagnosed with coccidia, a nasty intestinal parasite that causes horribly stinky diarrhea and an apparent inability to make it to the litter box. I've found stinky little piles of pudding diarrhea in my closet, on my pillow cover, in the downstairs closet, behind the guest bed, next to the litter box, and on the bathroom rug. It's so bad that while I was taking a bath today I was trying to figure out what that awful smell was--I was sniffing my armpits, looking for mildew, making sure there wasn't cat poop behind my head . . . and finally realized that it was a few paper towels in the trash that had some diarrhea residue on them. That's how strong the smell is. 

So, that's the poop part, which is damn well bad enough on it's own. Here's where the perfume comes in: 

After I organized my room I realized I needed to put the cat food bowl somewhere else since I had gotten rid of the huge bookshelf where it had been kept, high up away from our constantly starving dogs. (Who, incidentally, adore kitten poop! Hooray! Instant clean!)

So, for lack of a better place, I put the food bowl on my dresser. It worked very well until recently, when in the middle of the night I was woken up by a crashing sound and then a pervasive smell. Since I was still half-asleep it took me a few minutes to realize that Oz had taken a flying leap onto my dresser and knocked into the food bowl which crashed into my perfume bottles which knocked over my blown glass perfume bottle that was holding some of my Britney Spears In Control perfume. So. I had perfume soaking my dresser, a broken bottle, and a freaked out cat--and a pressing need for sleep. 

Here's where my half-assed procrastination approach really shows. I soaked up some of the perfume, consigned the rest of it dripping down my dresser to a carpeted eternity, covered the glass with paper towels and went back to bed. I still haven't dealt with it. 

BUT. (Hah, puns. I kill me.) The heavy flowery scent of the perfume mingling with the knock-ya-over-with-a-feather odor of the kitten poops is simply awful. So awful that I just had to share. You are WELCOME.