The Return of the Shit

Pria took a revenge shit on my bed again this morning. It's the first such incident since we got the cats fixed at the beginning of the year. The message was loud and clear - someone was unhappy that I've been out of the house for most of the weekend.

Pria planned the revenge poo in a very strategic manner. Were I not already an old hand at this game, I'd have certainly been in for a very unpleasant surprise.

I woke up this morning at 8:30 with a massive hangover and only 2 hours of sleep under my belt. Suffice to say last night was a good one - we went to the Franco Moçambicano to see a concert, then to Cristal to eat, then to a new bar called Havana and finally to The Lounge/Coconuts for dancing.

It was one of those nights where you come out of the club and it's already light out. Given the fact that I saw the sun rise, you can imagine that all I wanted was to sleep late into the afternoon. Unfortunately, I had to meet a client who was driving up from South Africa and could only see me this morning.

Reluctantly, I hauled myself out of bed when the alarm went off. I brushed my teeth, made a desperate cup of tea and checked my e-mail. I called the client to see how the drive up was coming along. He said he was stuck at the border and would be delayed by 1 hour. "Perfect," I thought, "I can go back to sleep for a little while."

I shuffled back to the bedroom and was about to lie down when I smelled the unmistakeable scent of cat shit. Pria lurked guiltily in the corner, and the covers were in a ball in the middle of the mattress, certainly not how I'd left them. I knew all too well what this meant - a little treasure waiting for me under the blanket, carefully covered up by the cat's shuffling paws.

Sadly, I was dead right. Not only did I not get any more sleep, I had the always pleasant experience of uncontrollable gagging bright and early in the morning. I shoved all the blankets and sheets in the washing machine, filled the detergent compartiment to the brim, and kicked off the sanitization process that will continue to tomorrow with an additional heavy wash and perhaps some bleach thrown in for good measure.

I've had many cats in my life, but never one remotely as vengeful as Pria. Sometimes I wonder if this is a foreshadowing of what our children will be like one day. Is this acting out somehow a reflection of my total lack of cat-rearing (and consequently parenting) skills? I can only hope that I'm paying my dues now, in feline form, as opposed to the much more complicated (though perhaps slightly less smelly) mess that can come from a teenager hellbent on getting his way.

Note to self: totally not ready for kids yet!