Kennith and me

Our friends recently told us about a book they bought called “Marly and Me.” You may have heard of it, I think it’s a best seller. Anyway, it’s by some columnist (I just write, I don’t do research) and it’s about his terrible dog Marly. Apparently Marly is a Troublemaker. They mentioned one story where they were at a restaurant eating with their children and had Marly tied to the small table. Well, Marly got interested in something else and took off. Table and all. It caused quite a scene.

I told Steve that Marly doesn’t have anything on our cat Kennith though. Let’s just say Kennith has ruined his fair share of carpet, furniture and even walls. I’m not sure how many damage deposits we’ve lost at apartments we’ve lived in. And now that we’re in a house, we don’t have to lose a damage deposit, but we did have to refloor a room in the house because the cat pee had just gotten too bad.

We’ve tried everything. Multiple litter boxes, foil all over the spots he goes, every kind of cleaning product (spot shot is the best, Em). We’ve taken him to the vet. It basically boils down to the fact the previous owners of the house had cats and I believe that Kennith is being territorial.

I’ve even tried finding a nice home for him. Do you know of anyone that wants an old overweight cat that pees on the floor? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Actually he is quite friendly. And I believe he wouldn’t pee on the floor if he lived somewhere that hadn’t already been tainted. Which reminds me of a funny thing my coworker told me about an awful cat she had once. He was so mean, always clawing at people. But she put an ad in the paper describing him as “personality plus” and some lucky person got a frisky new cat to take home!

So anyway, he has become a part-time resident of the garage (where he recently unplugged the hose of the water heater, which then sprayed water everywhere) and the outdoors (where he ruined our sandbox) and occasionally inside when I’m feeling like taking a risk. Which was the case last night. Although I really was just too lazy to take him out after noticing him when I was already laying in bed. “Oh well, I thought. Let him pee. We’re going to recarpet anyway.”

But he didn’t pee. What he did was wake me up ALL night. Every hour he was brushing my face with his paw wanting to be petted. I should have just put him out the first time. But I so did not want to get out of bed and walk him downstairs and out to the garage. So this went on all night. Until 5 a.m. when I finally put him down the stairs, closing the baby gate and my bedroom door behind me. Which then woke up the baby. Uuughhh.

So yeah, I missed out on that last precious 40 minutes of sleep and I’m not too happy about it. And I’ve been running short already all week. Looks like I picked a bad day to give up Starbucks doubleshots.