My neighbor’s cat thinks she is the government and regularly claims eminent domain of my home. Typically, she only takes over the front porch. Occasionally, however, she manages to make her way inside. I don’t usually realize she is inside until I see her darting from one room to the next at which point the chase begins and I ask the question, ‘How did you get in and how long have you been in my house?’
“You know she has peed in there,” Tree told me. “No,” I replied, adamantly denying such a claim. At the same time, I knew this could be a real possibility. “I haven’t found any poo,” I told him. “Cats bury it,” he advised.
At home, I’d walk into the basement, lay on the couch, or just be standing in the kitchen and think to myself, “Do I smell something?” I would then search the area and come to the realization that my middle name was not Columbo.
Today, however, was different. I woke up, got ready for work and then decided that, since I was already running late, I should make my bed. Being that my ‘bed’ has been the couch for the last few nights, I folded the blanket and began to pull off the couch cushions so I could ‘fluff’ them. As I removed the second cushion I saw something brown on the frame. “Holy shit, Tree was right!” I exclaimed, took a picture to provide him proof/validation, then grabbed a paper towel to clean it up.
I slowly and carefully picked up the poo with the paper towel then took it into the kitchen for inspection. As the saying goes, the proof is in the poo-ding. This was not a piece of poo, rather, a brown and black crumpled up pony tail holder. Like I said, my middle name is not Columbo.