The OnlyChild went to a grad retreat.
I'm home alone.
Well, not quite alone. I have the company of AbbyDog:
My whole house smells like cat pee, thanks to Stinkaroo. He has totally lost control of his faculties (and, ahem, some other parts too). He wanders around meowling at high pitch and volume, dropping his little lumps, piles and rivers of stinkiness all over the laundry room. Yes, the laundry room is now his kingdom. We can't have him loose in the house when we're not home during the day.
We try to stay on top of cleaning up after him, but I think we're losing the battle. The. Whole. House stinks. It's all I could smell when I walked in the door after work today. I lit my Lampe Berger, which is supposed to clean the air, as well as my oil burner from the Body Shop. Maybe the stench is in my nostrils now, but I can still smell cat piss.
I spoke to the vet about him a month or so ago. She says this is very common in older cats (he's almost 19) and it's up to us whether we want to endure it any longer. However, she also asked me a slew of questions about his health and happiness and concluded that his quality of life is probably still quite high - he's eating, drinking, still affectionate, etc.
So... we decided that maybe now is not the right time to say goodbye to our old kitty; maybe it's not his "time" yet.
But maybe I've had enough of poo and pee and the god-awful, nausea-inducing, gut-wrenching, nostril-searing stench. Maybe.
I don't know what to do. Sigh.
On another, not quite so ear-splitting, note, I finished my Bonne Fleur dress last night. I hand-stitched the hem while (sort of) watching a very disappointing episode of Law and Order with Mr. P. See, I'm trying to combine my love of sewing with his love of the television, so we can do things together.
I'd show you a picture of the dress but, as I was saying to Jen, the results of my attempts to photograph myself it in were hilarious. I got one picture in which both the dress and I were obliterated by the flash in the mirror (duh), another couple of the door frame when I tried to use the self-timer, and another of mainly my feet when I attempted to take the photo from the top down. I'll get the OnlyChild to take some pictures when she gets home from her retreat. I will not, however, get her to take them on her camera. I might never get them. Remember the birthday party photos? Of course you don't - you've never seen them and neither have I, because they're still on her computer. Boo-ha!
Well, the wind is whistling, my tummy is burning (dyspepsia? I've had it for a couple of days now), and I might have a mess to clean up in the basement... if I dare to look. I could live without going down there...