Lucky

We were at a rest stop somewhere in Virginia when we heard a weird knocking coming from one of the cats’ carriers. Wayne said he’d check on them after we ate. Boy, was that a smart move. The fat one had pissed all over himself and his carrier somewhere along the way. The fur on his belly and tail were soaked. We need not even discuss the smell. Wayne, though, was a trooper. He got Cazic out of his box and handed him off to me in the backseat. I was NOT touching the pee-cat. Then he got Fatty out of his carrier and wrapped him in a towel. He used Dunkin’ Donuts napkins and my bottle of water to try to clean off most of the pee. He then took the carrier outside and cleaned out all bodily fluids.

After he’d cleaned up the cat as best he could with the tools at hand then put them both back in the carriers, we drove on. I said “Man, I am so glad I married you.” And I meant it.

This weekend made me realize a few more reasons I’m glad I married him (some of which do not involve urine):

When we got to the hotel, he took Fatty directly to the bathroom and gave him a bath, then washed out both cat carriers.

He lovingly dealt with my inability to be a silent passenger.

He made a trip to the car in the rain to get my suitcase.

When he did my laundry (he does my laundry!) he made sure the cuffs on the jeans were not folded up.