Cat boxes are not located in the most centric of household locations for a reason: they stink no matter what. Even so, cat owners develop a tolerance for the faint smell cat urine and we also have some sort of olfactory barrier to protect visitors from the nose assault… or simply have no visitors.
We keep our cat’s box in the wash room by the water heater surrounded by 70 of those cute pine fresheners you hang in rear view mirrors, an extraction fan and a New Age flame-less candle that is guaranteed to eliminate the smells of mass graves in Africa during the summer. Still, you can get a whiff of cat pee if the dryer kicks in. You can say I am well prepared and almost immune to what a cat has to offer.
But when I walked in the wash room yesterday, I was not ready for the attack. Lord, the smell! I felt my beard, eyebrows and eyelashes curl as if subjected to a flamethrower but interesting enough, the hair in my nose petrified and fell like cheap stalactites. My eyes did not just water but flooded like a glacier run off hitting the Amazon river in the middle of tropical rainy season. My throat constricted as if I managed to royally piss Darth Vader off calling his Mom an old Coke machine and my lungs felt like they were being raped by a band of cossacks.
I admit I lost all balance and if it wasn’t for the washer, I would have dropped to the ground and assume fetal position. My stomach rebelled at the assault and I could feel bile and the half-digested black bean chili dogs rising up the esophagus with astonishing speed. Still blind I somehow managed to open the washer lid (Thank God for top loaders) and avoided abstract art all over the floor.
I tried to move, but my legs refused to respond as they were checking the internet for a vacation spot somewhere in the Gobi desert. I pawed around with desperation trying to locate the can of Fabreeze for Septic Tanks we keep nearby the box but instead I grabbed the Starch In A Can which I used to cover the inside of my nose. This did diminish the smell and recovered enough vision to start the burners and finally activate the aforementioned Fabreeze and allowing me a crawling retreat to a safer location in my abode.
About 45 minutes later I recovered enough to don my British NBC survival suit and find out what in the name of Mustard gas attacked me. I approached the cat box carefully constantly checking the integrity of my suit for early disintegration and, when I finally reached the smelly epicenter I saw that it was cat poo that our dear Missy had decided not to cover up.
I don’t know what was in that poo or why it stank so bad, but I had to do something about it. Using two bags of quick setting cement, I covered the offending solid waste and very carefully loaded it in my truck. Thankfully I do not live too far from the Everglades so after a quick 30 minute drive, I found what I deemed to be a spot far enough from civilization and dumped the refuse into the swamp where it belongs. It had to be a tad strong still because this morning, Florida Fish and Wildlife is reporting an unusual migration of alligators toward populated centers where Perfumania locations can be found.
UPDATE: I know you guys are not gonna believe it but…..the water heater is leaking. I swear on my Mom’s bible.
Damned cat poo.