Two nights ago I awoke in the middle of the night to a horrific sound. It was one of the purry ones barfing on the floor next to my side of the bed. I've seen my share of cat vomit over the years. It comes with the territory and is usually managed quite well with proper diet and brushing.
But something must have crawled inside Mr. Mitten and died. It was the most heinous, foul-smelling, projectile laden stuff I have ever seen. I jumped out of bed thinking I could quickly clean it up while it was wet and so I ran half asleep to grab toilet paper to throw on top of it.
I returned to the scene of the crime only to vomit in my own hand. And so I ran back to the toilet to finish the job. When I thought I was done, I went to the bathroom sink to clean myself up only to continue vomiting profusely in the sink. By this time, I had several lights on and had made enough noise to awaken Mr. W from his slumber. He jumped out of bed to find the floor covered in cat disaster and the bathroom sink filled with mine.
"WTF?" Was about all he could say.
It quickly became apparent this would not be a quick-clean-up-and-go-back-to-sleep type of night. The mess and smell were so bad we couldn't leave it and we couldn't easily clean it. Mr. W dug the steam cleaner out of the closet and proceeded to clean the bedroom carpet for what seemed like eternity. The smell was so bad I had to stick my head under the sheets.
Poor Mr. W. After being a champ with the carpet he tackled the sink. I had clogged it completely so he dismantled the drain to clear it. Still, the smell from Mr. Mitten permeated the whole room. I realized there was no way I could sleep there so we packed up the pillows and moved into the guest bedroom. Not knowing what else may eject from the kitty, we shut the door and kept them out, only to listen to them paw and meow outside the door for the rest of the night.