When one has 6 animals and a steady contingent of foster kittens, ones home tends not to resemble those found in magazines like House Beautiful.I never had kids but I would imagine having lots of indoor pets is sort of like having a large, messy family that never grows up and leaves home. In other words, I don’t plan on ever having a truly clean house. Ever.
My house is seeminyly immaculate only in the hour after I finish my extensive weekly 3-hour cleaning. But from then on out, you’ll discover no discernible evidence I ever attempted to tidy up.
Soon enough, dirty paw prints are stamped onto the kitchen tile. And like tiny tumbleweeds, fur seems to immediately collect in all corners of the hardwood floor. I pretend I don’t see them until they practically trip me.Rest assured I don’t own any clothing unadorned with black, white, red, gray or brown fur. I keep sticky lint rollers in my car and multiple rooms in the house. But it’s like putting a Band-Aid on a gushing wound. Why bother?You’ve seen the photo of my sofa with a hole in it the size of my head and the chewed corners of my buffet, all courtesy of my Greyhound Nellie.
But you haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the stains on my family room carpet from the first failed attempts at house training Skip. He still has trouble figuring out the dog door so it’s safe to say he’s no Einstein. Therefore, I anticipate more stains.
At first glance, the interior of my home looks neat enough. But upon closer inspection, one would discover little tell-tale signs I live in an animal house.
For instance, I’ve given up on the notion of being in bed without fur stuck to the comforter. Probably every other day I swallow dog or cat hair while sipping my morning latte.
My backyard garden is a veritable minefield of dog poop, no matter how often I scoop.
Without fail, my dogs manage to pee on my favorite annuals. I now call them my favorite monthlies since I replace them about that often.
Just 2 weeks ago I had my carpets professionally cleaned. They looked brand new. (Thank you Chemdry.) That lasted 5 days. After that it was a nightmare. Unfortunately, Skip became ill with bloody diarrhea, vomiting, fever, loss of appetite. It was scary. And messy. Very, very messy.
The poor guy couldn’t control what was literally dripping from his little behind. It ended up ALL OVER THE HOUSE. And naturally, that includes my newly cleaned carpet.
Armed with wet towels, cleaning solution and Anti-Icky-Poo Spray, I followed Skip around the house like an obsessed stalker. I even tried doggie diapers, to no avail. He removed them faster than a magician escapes loose shackles.
Each morning I’d awaken to a poopy trail that led downstairs. It snaked through the living room, culminating with a large runny deposit smack in front of the dog door. Oh so close…
Thankfully, Skip is fine now. After $400 of tests, it seems he simply had a parasite; an expensive little parasite. But it was an easy fix and he’s back to his old goofy self.
Still, I left sheets covering my carpets for the next week because I’m plumb out of poo spray. And I threw away most of my cleanup towels. I pity the poor soul who might come across those things. I truly do.
So that’s what life is like in my house with 6 animals and endless foster kittens. Now don’t get me wrong; I prefer a not-so-perfect furry, poopy, sometimes stinky home filled with four-legged creatures than I do an impeccably clean house void of irrefutable joy from messy but unconditional love.
And in case you didn’t catch it, the operative word in that last sentence was messy. Very, very messy.
PS…moments after I finished writing this blog, Nellie threw up. Twice. I kid you not. That does it. I’m putting my vet on speed dial.