Looking at the floor this morning I suddenly came to the realization that I couldn’t put off mowing it any longer. I walked over to the front window and happened to look down to find a rather loose aggregation of fur probably 3 inches long that had been shed and had now made itself into this lovely lacy little pattern that lay on the floor in front of the cedar chest. While it was attractive it brought me to the realization that I haven’t vacuumed in a while, have I? As if to reinforce the idea, I looked and underneath the table where the DVD player and assorted CDs and what have you reside, not to mention under the desk and the computer stand, there were similar lacy cat hair things, each larger than the last. As I looked around just see what else was around I noticed there were quite a few more of these little lace things, so I decided that as much as I didn’t want to do it, I had to mow the floor.
I hate housework. The only self-cleaning things in my house are the oven, which draws too much power and might burn the house down, and the cats. Unfortunately the boys aren’t totally self cleaning enough. I still have to police the litterbox, wash the dishes, dishes open the cans to refill the dishes, change the water in the electric water fountain that they have for drinking and clean up stray cat hair, whether it comes in the lacy form or the severely congealed form usually cast in the middle of a high-traffic area. Admittedly the lacy form is nicer. Still, housework has to be done, and is much as I enjoy doing other things, like writing or dictating essays on life and theology and the importance of peanut butter in the diet of diabetic old ladies, there are times I have to put down the recorder, take my hands off the mouse, step away from the keyboard and go do something to improve the environment in which all of us live.
In getting my little Oreck Ironman out of the closet I managed to knock it on its side, right on the toes of my right foot. Luckily it doesn’t weigh much and even luckier for me, it wasn’t my left foot which already has a broken toe. I managed to get done with the combination living room/kitchen/office without too much trouble. After sucking up about a quarter cup of cat kibbles, numerous pieces of carpet fuzz from the scratching post I just bought them a couple of months ago and which is beginning to show a bit of wear and tear, and no less than half a dozen more bits of cat lace I figured I’d gotten the floor fairly clean – or I did, until I turned around and saw a ball of cat lace sitting in the exact center of the floor I had just mowed. I didn’t see a tongue sticking out but it definitely had a “neener, neener, neener” air about it. I wasted no time dispatching it with the Oreck and thankfully, no others showed up to take up the challenge.
One thing I have found about floor mowing --- Gandhi enjoys it. I bet if I had one of those cute little automatic mowing things for the floor Gandhi would be riding it around. He loves riding on the walker my husband used to use. One click of the brake levers and Gandhi is up on the seat with his front paws on the crossbar, ready to go. And he loves to be mowed. Whether I use the upholstery brush or just the end of the hose and go over his back and tail, he purrs, rolls around and acts like this is the best thing that’s happened since the last time he had cat treats. He absolutely loves it. I like it too; the more hair I vacuum off him, the fewer cat laces I find lying around. The other three felines, though, wanted nothing to do with the process. They were firmly planted on top of the china cabinet during the proceedings, even though Gandhi was on top of the cat tree right beneath them as I held the hose against his fur.
I finished the rest of the house with relative dispatch, including about half a pound of cat hair from the air conditioner filter. I notice the a/c sounds less strained now; probably it wishes I had done that cleanup job last week! I’m glad it’s a small house; I’d hate to see how many pieces of cat lace I’d find if they had a lot of room in which to grow! When the time comes for my son and heir to clean out my effects he’ll probably still be finding bits of cat lace lying around. Oh, well, they’re probably as valuable as anything else I may have to leave him. Besides, he might know about cat lace. He has a cat too. Just one. His mother is more of an overachiever in that line.
So now the floor is mowed and the furniture dusted off a bit. It looks cleaner but I have a sneaking suspicion that somewhere just out of sight and waiting for an opportune moment, there is a bit of cat lace just waiting to put in an unexpected appearance. And they said cats were sneaky!!!