I think my animals are having a contest this week. It's called, "Who can gross out Michele the most". Becks, the Aussie was in the lead after his beautifully executed rat assassination in the barn aisle the other night. I applauded the kill, but not the fact that I had to pick up the wretched dead thing in a pitchfork and escort it to the manure dumpster. Super gross. The thing was enormous. I think Becks killed the rat equivalent of a latter years Marlon Brando. The rat group in my barn just lost a major player. A head honcho. They must be in mourning, because I haven't seen one since that night. Becks seems disappointed, but I admit that I'm not. Those fuckers are creepy s.o.b.'s. And I thought that was bad...
This morning I was sitting at my desk, sipping a cup of coffee and playing around on the computer (read:wasting time on Facebook). Zeke, our large teenage tiger cat who was born in our tack room16 years ago, moseyed into the room and went into the litter box that lives behind the door to take care of some business. I payed no attention as he scratched around in the box, but as he was exiting he paused, and then he began the inimitable "cat retching maneuver". Anyone who has had cats knows what I'm talking about here. No cat can just quietly puke. They have to draw it out, just to make sure we know they're puking. After four, or five good retches, he managed to expel the majority of his morning feast of very expensive Wellness moist cat food, shook his head and politely left the scene.
"I know how you feel, Big Zekie," I called after him. "The litter box has that effect on me sometimes, too."
Now since I was busy catching up on all my FB friends business I didn't jump right up to pick up the barf. Then a smell wafted over to my quadrant of the office, which I tried to ignore, but it was too powerful, too fresh, too disgusting. One might think that was the gross part. It wasn't. I grabbed a giant spool of paper towels from the kitchen and steeled myself for a moist, still warm, cat barf pick up. Never a good moment, but I've done it before. I love cats, but they do puke, shit, piss and kill small animals and birds in my house. Good Heavens. Most people would probably look away from the pile of barf they're about to pick up, but I'm a sick bitch and I chose to look right at it. Holy shit, the barf was moving!!! Amidst the expensive, recently expelled vomit was a VERY LARGE tapeworm!!!! EWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! With a shudder, I carefully layed down the paper towels over the pile and backed away. I just couldn't pick it up. Not right away. It was f'ing MOVING! A GIANT TAPEWORM!!! A huge, writhing, long white worm!!! Like your worst nightmare, or the grossest horror movie. I can see the title, "The Giant Tapeworm Who Reared Up and Ate Your Face". Good Lord. I knew I couldn't ask Jonathan to help (he always says the cats are my animals, though he does love them-secretly, but whatever, I catch him patting them all the time and Marbles, the calico has a huge crush on him).
After much teeth gnashing, pacing and another cup of coffee, I managed to pick up the disgusting pile of MOVING barf. I just went to my happy place. La la la la, I'm not picking up a giant disgusting worm, la la la la. Gahhhh!! Eww, into the trash it went and then out to the garbage dumpster. My life is ridiculous and macabre. Fortunately, I have a fabulous small animal vet who dispensed cat wormer pills with no trouble. She cackled when I told her what I had to deal with this morning. I love this woman. Honestly, she's the best small animal vet I've ever used. She gave me careful instructions about giving the pills to avoid being bitten, which I took seriously. She's good. I know this. I ended up coating Big Zekie's pills in butter and wouldn't you know the little devil gobbled them up like candy! Of course! He's had a tape worm that's a mile long living in his body! He's starving!!! So ironic and gross at the same time. It's Big Zekie's fault, because he likes to supplement his diet with small rodents, moles to be exact. They carry this disgusting parasite, so alls fair. Serves him right, but I'm scarred beyond belief. Thanks, oh mighty hunter.
So, phew let's hope this little contest is over. I cant take much more. Really, I can't. Did you hear that animals?? I can't!!
Friday, February 1, 2013
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