Yesterday my aunt, my brother and I spent many hours cleaning out my mom’s house. She is still currently in hospital awaiting the news of where we will be able to find her new forever home. On Friday, the remaining three cats (from the beginning number of six cats) were taken out of the house and surrendered to the OSPCA for adoption. As much as my mom loved those cats and her two dogs, we had to make the decision to do the fairest thing for them and allow them a chance at a life with a new family. My brother is still currently fostering the two dogs.
During the clean out, I realized why I will never again have a cat. Cats have three basics tasks – eat, sleep and evacuate their bowels and urinary tracts. With six different litter boxes in the house, I’m still perplexed as to how a cat can fail to execute the one task a cat is meant to master. Without getting into horrific details, there are pieces of furniture that were removed from my mom’s house that were more saturated with cat urine than a lifetime of litter boxes will ever be.
It was a cathartic experience throwing things out that my mom had been stock-piling for the apocalypse. I wasn’t sure how I would feel getting rid of some of my mom’s belongings, but the overwhelming smell of cat made the job much easier, and much quicker, than anticipated.
We still have one more floor to tackle, but the truly important stuff from that house is comfortably tucked into her hospital bed awaiting our visit this afternoon and a chance to breathe some fresh air during a trip to a potential retirement home. The rest of the novelties are just things. Sure, there are items with great sentimental value that will find a place in my home or my brother’s home, but the rest of those possessions are replaceable. My mom is not.
My muscles will be put to the test again today as we endeavor to clean up the second floor and get the house ready for more people to create memories in that house that will be as happy as the ones we have. I can only pray they don’t have a cat!