Cole pooped his pants.

I really meant to post this yesterday, but two things: (1) I was super busy at work and (2) I didn't want to post it without a picture of Cole.  I can't log in to Myspace at work (where this picture is a part of my profile) because work just installed this stupid blocking software... 

Anyway, two nights ago, I awoke at 12:30am to P saying, "He'd better not have brought that up here!"  To which I responded, "What?"

P: Can't you SMELL that?

D: No *brief pause* OH GOD, YES *turn on light*

Come to find out, our beloved, long-haired male cat, Cole, had had problems pooing.  It was slightly runny, and, as a result, had gotten smeared all over his hind-end.  Well, if you've met Cole (and most of you have), you'll remember that he's a whiney baby.  He meows very whiningly whenever you pick him up, meow at him, put you hand on or near him, for no apparent reason, etc.  And, this has been upsetting Sheila of late.  I could go into THAT story, but that's for another post when I'm feeling up to it.  The long and short of it is, when he does something she doesn't like, she beats the living crap out of him.  He then hides for days on end, and we have to keep them separated until things are smoothed over.  SO, we were trying to do the clean-up very delicately.  

He would have none of it, though, no matter how careful we were.  We quickly came to the realization that (1) we needed more than a tiny sheet of toilet paper to do THIS job and (2) we needed to get him into the bathroom asap.  So, we did.  But then we realized that even large amounts of TP were having little to no impact on the situation.  So, Cole got a bath.  At 12:30am.  A groggy bath.  He yowled the entire time, and we kept shushing him (to no avail).  

Upon completion, we realized that now he was wet and would try to get on things to dry off.  Things like the bed (with the multi-million dollar coverlet from Pottery Barn that my parents got us) and the couch that we spent a fortune on.  We threw blankets haphazardly on the couch.  I then cleaned the litter box and realized C had dragged his ass across the floor.  P cleaned that up, and then we went to bed. 

The good news: Sheila didn't seem to care throughout.  I'm sure she thought it was very funny.