Welcome to Gaia! ::

You might remember that two days ago I bathed my cat.
Today, I had to repeat the experience, but with dangerous chemicals. You see, last night, for reasons known only to her, Freya blindly (well, I suppose that's the only way she does anything) walked across the kitchen table, crossing my mother's oil palette. Somehow, she managed to only get her feet in the cadmium red, the only paint on the palette that could make the kitchen table look like she killed something on it and the only color with a toxic pigment. And this is the cat who I only using natural soaps on due to her delicate health.
So I had to wash off first the toxic paint, then the toxic solvent.
This took several hours and much protest on her part, including weeing on my white trousers. Then I had to spend about an hour calming her down and making sure I got all the paint.

I love my cat. I love my cat. I love my cat. I will not throw one of the stuffed animals now littering my bedroom floor because she weed on my featherbed and I got the worst night's sleep I had in months because it was off getting washed at my cat.

I actually had two different dreams about uncomfortable beds!

I'm afraid the only thing she's stepped into today is the grave. Freya died this evening.

Well, to be frank, that was getting better for her.

That was my first reaction, that I couldn't stand only having one full time cat in the house. Mouse is never in and Smokey's a lodger. When I raised this to my mother, she dismissed it and said that if history was any indication, we would fall into another cat sooner rather than later.