Daisy is not fresh. She rolls in the litter box every day. This afternoon I smelled poop and looked high and low, thinking Frida had had another accident. An hour later I noticed that Daisy had somehow soiled her pantaloons and had to get some help with her grooming from a wet washcloth. When they told me at the clinic that she had been found on a dirt road with her sister and six nieces and nephews, I thought it was just a colorful back story and a credit to her survival skills, but it goes deeper as it turns out. It's a revelation of her character in more ways than one.
When you adopt your first kitten, there is an unspoken rule that no one talks about hairballs. I started the day cleaning Frida's thrown up breakfast, after work progressed to Daisy's pantaloons, and now that I've been on a walk Nicky is hacking all over the house trying to get something up. It's just going to be one of those clean up days from start to finish, and the trade off is that we have great cats most of the time.
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