Sunday, October 10, 2004

Mystery of the Missing Poo

I just got a new cat on Monday. Turtle Dog (Cat #1) had been acting out over the last few weeks, dashing around the apartment, opening cabinets, ripping apart sponges and generally causing havoc around the apartment. I deduced that she must be lonely and headed over to the Pima County Animal Shelter to find Turtle Dog a friend.

I was hoping for a kitten, but after walking in and seeing all the adult cats who still didn't have homes, I fell in love with this diluted gray and cream torti. She'd been in the shelter since June 2004 and look so depressed and sad. She looked up at me as I walked past her cage and she gave me a plaintive "mew." I started crying.

So, Monday, New Cat came home in a little cardboard carrier. Turtle was not pleased. The hissing and growling began before New Cat was even released out of the box. Now, I wasn't expecting instant and immediate friendship, but I was not expecting the level of hostility and hatred. The hissing, the chasing, the growling, the narrowed eyes, the laid-back ears.

I had to make a new litter box to keep them separate (one in the bedroom, one in the bathroom). Separate rooms, separate food dishes, separate toys. Things have slowly been getting better over the week, but it's been stressful having to keep an eye on two warring cats when I'm already dealing with so much in my life right now. But thankfully, I think Turtle has accepted that her turf has been invaded and New Cat (now named Zola, short for Gorganzola cheese) is becoming less aggressive and evil.

I even got rid of the second litter box. I've decided that they'll be fine in the same room when I'm gone now, so there is no longer a need for a second litter box; I got rid of the box in my room.

But here's the kicker. It still smells like poo in my bedroom. I can't seem to find the source of the stench. I've gotten on my hands and knees, crawled around looking under books, through papers, along the wall. Nothing. Not a turd to be found. I don't know what to do. There's only so long I can smell shit while trying to complete my homework and midterms. It's starting to affect my brain. Would my professor take inability to concentrate due to poo as an excuse for not finishing my Maternal and Child Health?

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