“A Horrible End to a Beautiful Meal”

That was Rochelle’s way of describing what happened when she cleaned up a recent cat…mess.

OK, this one is gross. Don’t read if you don’t want to read something gross.

You’ve been warned.

Last night Rochelle and I went to EOS, a local restaurant and wine bar, for one of their weekly wine flights (in December all of the flights are Champagne). Along with our wine we had some wonderful food. EOS is truly one of the outstanding restaurants in SF.

We got home about 8:00pm, and after puttering around the house and the computer for a while, we were both in bed by 9:15pm. After I dropped my book to nodding off for the third time, we decided it was an early night, around 9:45pm, and switched off our lights.

About a half-hour later, Rochelle decided she needed some water and an Advil, and got up. “Oh no.” was quickly followed by “Oh my god!!” and then “You won’t believe what Cecil did.”

Knowing better than to get up, I stayed in bed. The scent found me anyway.

At first it was the usual cat poop smell, which you get used to after you’ve cleaned a litterbox a few times. Then it got a bit worse, and I decided to hold the blanket in front of my face until Rochelle cleaned it up (it was, after all, her cat that committed the crime). Then it was so bad I needed to seek fresh air.

I got out of bed to find Rochelle headed for the front door, gagging, in the hopes of getting fresh air. The odor in the hallway was overpowering, and when I snapped on the light in the dressing room and stepped in to see the magnitude of the incident, I started gagging too.

Let’s just say the Cecil is an old cat, and his digestive system is doing unnatural things to his food. The amount of cat shit, in two distinct, solid piles, was more than a human puts out in a normal day. Unbelievable.

Rochelle had managed to throw a paper towel on top of each pile before being completely overcome. I handled the rest of the clean-up, and barely managed to not throw up.

Rochelle was not so lucky. She threw up three times, at either end of the house, when the fresh air wasn’t enough to overcome the smell. The first time she had to run the length of the house, hand over her mouth, to get to the toilet. The others went into the kitchen sink.

Hence the title of our little story today. Aren’t you glad you read it?