The Last of the Peepee Stink Feet

It’s all my fault and I admit it. Was it a month ago or longer that I bought the cheap cat litter? The kind that sandstorms when it’s dry and absorbs odors into each individual nugget when wet. The kind that causes the unbearable Peepee Stink Feet.

I think it was Thursday when I was sitting in my office doing the things I do in here when Bill walked in and hopped up on the bed behind me. He didn’t come over and paw at my arm, he didn’t nuzzle my feet, he didn’t even make any effort to be in close proximity AND YET I could SMELLLLLLL his Peepee Stink Feet from several feet away.

Last straw, here you are.

I had already cleaned out the smaller of the two little boxes. Like, completely. Like dumped all the litter and lysoled the insides and re-littered completely. But the big box… oh, it’s big. I kept trying to replace the litter slowly so I wouldn’t have to dump it all at once but OBVIOUSLY that was not working. So Thursday night, which comes before Friday morning, which is when the garbage truck comes to take away the cat poop, Cristian helped me dump the big box. We were not entirely prepared for the peepee sandstorm that followed. Yech.

Saturday, I bought new cat little–the good kind, TidyKat, with the clumping!–and what followed is documented below. Oh, except that I also wore plastic gloves because… seriously, the pee stink was overwhelming. The garage smelled like 67 cats had peed in that very box for the past 32 years.

 

Lysol wipes and plastic gloves!

 

Oh and Captain helped… by sniffing everything in the garage.

 

But I cleaned the sweet bajeebus outta that box, boy howdy, refilled it and placed it back in the basement where it belongs. And you know what happened after that?

Billy peed in it.

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