Pamper Your Cats
Now that Romeo's blind, I find I tolerate behavior from him that used to be strictly forbidden.
He always loved sleeping on the kitchen table, but I used to speak sharply to him and push him off. Who'd have the heart to do that now? Poor old kitty. We just pet him and croon to him, and when he wants down, and starts teetering uncertainly on the edge of the table, someone will pick him up slowly and place him gently on the floor.
He gets stinky food every morning now. I wait till the other cats aren't around to give it to him. And when Mr. Bingo Kitten gets a bug up his butt, I toss him outside. I figure Romeo has enough problems without Mr. Crazy leaping unexpectedly onto him from across the room.
But the things you have to put up with! This morning, stepping into the shower, I put my foot smack down in the middle of an unexpected puddle next to the tub - ah, unexpected, but not by any means unidentifiable. Romeo got in the habit of having a wee in the middle of the bathmat, I'm sorry to say, before I sighed and gave up on the idea of keeping a bathmat at all. Apparently the spot where the bathmat used to be does just as well.
Last week, Katie left her laundry sitting in the open dryer for several days. Guess what happened to it?
So I sighed again, and wiped up the mess with an old towel, and petted Moe on the head and told him he's a good old kitty. But a friend suggested kitty diapers to me today, and the idea is not without some appeal.
It's not without precedent, either. I used to make and sell cloth diapers online, when Anna was a baby, and I came up with a one-size-fits-all model - to demonstrate the efficacy of which, I took pictures of it on Anna, about 25 pounds at the time, and on Slappy White, about 10.
So I'd just need to dig out my old patterns, find some scraps of fabric, oil and air-blast the sewing machine and snap press, and get to sewing. I might as well get started now. Romeo wants the computer.