There are many positives to us getting Peppa a cat litter tray and having her as an indoor cat through the night.
We are no longer visited by the violating cat. It can’t get in. The cat flap is blocked off during the night hours, so that even if it gets it open it is met with an immovable, to a cat at least, object. I kind of wish, in all the time we’ve done it, that I’d heard it trying the cat flap because I would go and laugh at it. Laugh long and loud.
But I haven’t so… never mind.
We no longer get the ever-so-lovely sensation of cold cat paws onto human flesh in the middle of the night. Or wake up to muddy footprints across the bed and the people in the bed.
There’s a hugely reduced window for Peppa to bring any mice – alive or dead – into the house.
There is also the odd negative.
Last night the biggest negative to date turned out to be that Peppa did a shit so foul-smelling that I had to go to bed, when I really didn’t want to, in order to escape the smell.
It was one of the worst smells I have ever had the pleasure (wrong word and then some) of experiencing. It was awful. Absolutely fricking disgusting.
It taught me a few things. Mainly that the strip of material the cat litter tray asked me to add as a “filter” does fuck all. It doesn’t filter anything. I knew it didn’t when I put it in, but the instructions were so insistent. It would, I suppose, stop a poo if Peppa chose, for some reason, to shit vertically, but that’s about it. The implication that comes with the filter is that it’s some kind of air purifying thing. I mean, it’s not. It’s just a piece of black material. But it has ambition. And now its lies are exposed and my eyes are streaming.
It taught me that if a cat was human-sized people WOULD HAVE DIED under the circumstances we were in. I went upstairs to escape the smell, where we have an air purifier which is currently purifying the air by making it about a gazillion degrees colder than it was when it had much in it. But it would have handled the poo stink well. If it had been on. But it wasn’t on, because it’s noisy as frick and has a disco light setting which makes it not very conducive to night time, and Carole was already fast asleep. But if Peppa had been human sized and done that shit, no amount of upstairs could have saved me. No amount of air purification, or whatever. Even putting half a house between me and the offending turd wouldn’t have been enough.
I taught me that in a way it would be better to let a strange cat come into our house and piss on Carole’s bag, have Peppa’s muddy footprints across me as I sleep and have to spend days catching mice if it meant I didn’t have to smell that again.
But for Peppa’s wellbeing and sanity, we’re going to keep it up. And I’m going to hope I’m in bed before any of her night shits ever again.