Just Like Marcel.

Here we are again with another Misha story. This one took place this morning. It all started when I stepped on his tail in the middle of the night because he has changed all of his sleeping places. I never know where he is going to be anymore. He is usually smack dab in front of the bathroom door, so I was planning on stepping over him at that point. He fooled me by laying about six feet away from that door. Of course he was upset and I was sorry.

Ever since the poo incident last week, I always think I smell poo. I looked around but didn't see any when I got up this morning. I took my shower and Misha was waiting for me to open the bathroom door like normal when I was done. I went downstairs, turned on the kitchen light and right next to the litter box was a piece of poop. Sighhhhhhhh..... Well, I thought, this can happen. He could have knocked it out while he was furiously trying to bury it. I clean it up and do all the things I usually do in the morning before work.

I went upstairs and got my clothes, brushed my teeth and went back into my room to get my shoes and go. I was going to wear my black flats, bare feet in back flats. I slip my foot into the right shoe, lower my heel and ... I feel something under my heel. I quickly yank my foot up and out flies three pieces of poo.

The HORROR... and IN MY SHOE! All I could think about was that episode of Friends where Marcel poops in Monica's shoe. Funny thing is that episode was on the other night. NO...no, no, no...not funny, IN MY SHOE, ON MY HEEL...GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Why, why in my shoe? Is Misha smart enough to have gotten even with me for washing his butt the other day? For having Judy clip his nails on Mother's Day? For me stepping on his tail in the middle of the night?

I tip toed to the bathroom, cleaned off my foot and picked up the poo, again. It seems like that's all I do anymore is pick up poo.

I'm sure what happened was the poo stuck to his fur again and just happened to drop off as he probably sat on my shoes.

So disgusting!

Please, no more poop.

Like trying to handle a small mountain lion.

Look at Misha in this picture. Isn't he cute with his little bunny paws all folded up on his chest? Most of the time he is a nice kitty. He has his moments of madness where he attacks you in the middle of the night because your arm is coming out from under a pillow. He seems to think it doesn't belong to anyone. Your arm is now some kind of small creature that needs to be dealt with ferociously.

This morning he was in his usual place when I got up. Right smack in front of the bathroom door. I have learned to always look down when I walk around my house just to make sure I don't step on him. I took my shower and thought when I opened the door he would be still laying there, waiting for me to go downstairs and feed him. He wasn't, strange I thought. Then I noticed a little ball of something on the floor. Poop, yes a single ball of poop. I looked towards Emily's room and there was Misha, with his head close to the floor looking very guilty. I got a tissue, picked up the yucky thing and flushed it. Misha doesn't randomly poop in my house. He is a good boy and has always used the litter box from the first moment we brought him home at the age of two months. He kept slinking around casting guilty looks left and right. Great, this means it isn't over, there is more somewhere for me to find.

**** Emily, don't read this part****

I walked towards Emily's room and there I saw more poo just inside the door. I got more tissue, picked it up and flushed again. Misha was still slinking around. Not a good sign. He could possibly be in need of a "clean up" and if I make a move towards him at the wrong time, I could be trying to get him out from underneath a bed or something. I went downstairs thinking that his stomach will get the better of him and he will come down on his own to eat.

Okay, here he comes. I am sweet talking him trying not to startle him. As he walks away from me, there it is. Stuck to his butt! Oh no!

It's 6:15 a.m. and I have to be at work at 7 a.m. I grab a bunch of paper towels hoping it is just and easy removal with no actual water clean up involved. I hold on to his tail and lift it up, he instantly starts to complain and I can see that there is no hope of an easy removal. This is going to require me holding him under the tub faucet while I hope he doesn't make Swiss cheese out of me.

I put him in the "scruff of the neck hold" with one hand and grab the two front legs with my other hand. I tuck him under my arm so I don't hurt his neck and I head for the stairs as fast as I can. I put him in the bathroom and shut the door. I yell for help because this is not easily done by one person. If I let go of him or loosen my grip once the cleaning process starts all hell could break loose. I grab a towel from the closet, which is outside of the bathroom. As I slowly open the door with my foot blocking the opening, he is too fast and makes a break for it. Noooooooo! Now I have to find him and he will probably go under something and I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!

We find him in Emily's room, luckily not under anything. I swoop him up again and head for the bathroom, turn on the water and start to wrangle the wild animal's rear end under the stream of water. I am telling him that if he bites me, I will not be responsible for what will happen. Misha is moaning and groaning and I am getting more and more upset because it feels like loads of time has gone by. Finally, he is rinsed clean but I want a tiny bit of shampoo squirted on the "area" so I can make sure he is really clean. Mission accomplished, get the towel and wrap him in it trying to dry him off as fast as possible. "Stop complaining Misha, you are the one with poo stuck to your butt." I let him go from the towel and he disappears out the bathroom door. I look at the clock and the whole event only took 7 minutes. Pretty good!

If Misha were a short haired cat, I don't think he would have this problem, at least four times a year.