Toddlers, cats, and snot

A 4am reflection

Having a hospice foster cat is a bit like having a toddler. One minute, you’re minding your own business. The next, you’re covered in snot, there’s a diaper blowout, and they’re dripping food bits onto you. All at the same time.

So commenced my morning here at the House of Potats. I woke up coughing due to the lovely chest cold I picked up this week. I stumbled into the kitchen for some water, and managed to trip over an unanticipated obstacle. There, mid floor, sat four pounds and change of ancient hospice cat. She looked up at me in the way of cats through time; old, inscrutable, and delightfully crunchy.

Reader, I squeed. Which prompted a cranky eyeroll from the cat. Who really only wanted an early morning snack.

I dropped some food in her dish, but just couldn’t help myself. I picked her bony frame up, snugged her to my chest, and walked to the couch. Her highness raised an eyebrow, but settled in with a purr.

We arrived at our destination and I settled her next to me for a few minutes of cuddle time. While giving jaw scritches, I noticed that one nostril was blocked up. It’s allergy season, plus she’s had a feline herpes flare up. This has been normal for her. So I did what moms the world over do.

I wiped her nose with my nightshirt.

That was not a good idea. As the crust over her nose broke, a string of green attached to my shirt and stretched as I pulled away. Longer and longer it went, leaving me wondering when surface tension and physics would win the day. Then- splat, as tension broke and the gunky bit broke loose and slammed into the tail of my shirt.

She looked at me, shook her head, and flung bits of food off her whiskers, across my chest. I took a deep, steadying breath and then smelled it.

Looking down, knowing what I’d see but really not wanting to acknowledge the reality, there it was. The brown splotch, about the size of a silver dollar…the results of snuggling with a hospice cat who’s got a leaky pooper. I closed my eyes, and sighed.

I looked into those deep green eyes, met the challenge sitting in that gaze…and said “you win”.

She sneezed on me, shook her head to distribute more fluid and goodies to my person, and hopped off the couch, mission accomplished as she toddled off to find her heating pad.

Me? I went to change my shirt. Because what else was I going to do?