I’m not one to complain, but this is just unbelievable. I have to share. And in this mood, what the hell else am I going to blog about?
Yesterday, as you may know, was Father’s Day. Since my dad died four years ago, that’s a rough day. Which is fine; everyone has personal things they have to deal with. That in and of itself isn’t worth mentioning. I’m just setting the stage. I mean, this is so bad I feel like at any moment Ashton Kutcher is going to show up in his ridiculous trucker hat. I owe that guy a slap.
So yes, Father’s Day is rough. June 18th, the day my dad died, is also rough. This year that happens to be today, one day after Father’s Day, which is especially shitty. But hey, at least I can get it over with all at once, right?
Well, last night right before we went to bed, our plumbing did a little belch and gurgle and all of a sudden both of our bathtubs were full of suspiciously odorous dirty water. Our bathroom floors got wet, and we had to turn off all of our plumbing. Dishwasher, washing machine, sinks, everything. I had to drive to the gas station to use the bathroom since we don’t have a fence and I didn’t want our neighbors to catch me peeing in the back yard. Talk about awkward silences.
We called the plumber, who, by the way, advertises 24-hour service but is full of “bathtub water” because they don’t even answer their phones at midnight, much less come out. So we put towels under the doors, but when I got back from the gas station I was highly aware that our entire house absolutely reeked of sewage. Unsure if plumbing gases are hazardous in an enclosed space over eight hours, I decided it would be best for us and the cats to open all of the windows overnight.
But our cats are inside-only cats, and I was afraid that even with screens on our windows they might find a way out. I would be absolutely heartbroken if I lost my cats. So for their own safety, I locked them in the garage overnight with food, water, litter, and beds. I went to sleep super late, knowing I had to wake up extra early to meet the plumber.
In the morning, when I got up shortly after my husband left for work, I was made painfully aware that I had forgotten to take a sticky bug trap out of the garage first, which I had set out because of a fly problem because of the sewage. Snaps, my little one, got stuck to it. I have no idea if he spent the whole night like that or if it just happened in the morning.
Chunks of his hair were all over the bug trap, and the hair on his tail and several paws was all matted down with the glue that comes on those traps. He was scared, shaking, and absolutely miserable. Not that I would ever want this to happen to either of my cats, but the fact that it happened to Snaps is all the worse, because he not too long ago had a very traumatic experience at the vet. (They had to take out the clear box of torture.) The poor little guy has been through enough.
I called Hub-a-dub, very upset and not knowing what to do, plus feeling like the single worst person in the universe for leaving that thing out there with them. Sweet as my husband is, he came home – and picked up a bottle of baby shampoo on the way. Meanwhile, I was waiting for the plumber in my extra stinky house with a very full bladder trying to look up how the crap to fix my broken cat.
Oh, and did I mention that the big cat, Buttons, is very unhappy with me for locking her in the garage overnight with her annoying (and probably panicked) little brother? Cold shoulder is an understatement.
I found what to do online, and Hub-a-dub arrived with the shampoo even though he desperately needed to be at work because something was due at noon. We needed to rub vegetable oil on Snaps and then wash him with baby shampoo, but he hates being held down and our plumbing was broken, so we couldn’t use the bathtub. (Seriously, where’s Ashton Kutcher?)
So we ended up filling a big plastic tub with lukewarm water (the water worked, we just couldn’t put any of it down the plumbing or we’d get more backflow) and taking the sad, sticky little guy out to the garage for a forced oil-rub followed by a shampoo and bath-dip. Needless to say, that was not so much fun for any of us. And since we only had one tub of water, we could only rinse him so well.
The plumber came and we laid down $200 to fix the sewage. Could be worse; at least it’s fixed. Although the plumber did track dirt and love-only-knows-what all over our floors. Of course. And the husband had to leave immediately to get back to work.
The little cat is still sticky (slightly less than before), plus now he’s oily. He’s leaving little oil smudges every place he sits down. I can’t give him a second bath by myself (it’s definitely a two-person job), and Hub-a-dub won’t be back until late tonight. I don’t think Snaps’s tail will be normal again until he grows new fur. He’s just so pitiful, and I hate that he’s all jumpy and skittish now. The worst part is that this actually is my fault, unlike the vet appointment from Hell. I feel just awful.
So now it’s the anniversary of my dad’s death, and I have two miserable cats, oil spots all over the house, and two very unpleasant bathrooms to clean. I’m actually a little impressed by how much went wrong.
Ever have a day like this? I think I’ll move to Australia.
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