For those of you who don't know from other blogs, I have a cat named Bruce Wayne (appropriately named for the mask he wears due to his coloring). He is the love of my life and a pain in my patootie all in the same breath. I've shared his picture for everyone's reference.
Yes, that is Wayne manor. It's huge and takes up a fifth of that bedroom. He's spoiled.
So, last night I have this incredible guy over who I have been talking too for a few weeks. He's pretty wonderful. Charming, kind, smart, chivalrous, and he can cook. I just enjoy his company immensely and he makes me very happy. Well, I have not had a man around for a while and Bruce isn't the most fancy of souls when I bring a new gentleman over to take up some of my time.
Last night proved no different.
As Harry and I are cuddling on the couch watching a movie, Bruce decides he is going to come over and lay between us (more on me than on Harry, but as close to in between as he could wedge himself). Now, I'm petting my sweet boy, loving on him like I normally do and Harry has his arm around me. We are laying in the corner of the L-shaped couch and somewhat perpendicular to one another, Harry laying into the corner with his feet going out one way, myself with feet going the other direction on the couch and snuggling up in that corner space. Bruce happened to be right under my arm in the teeny tiny space that was left between Harry and myself.
He's purring, I'm feeling comfy and at peace with everything. I made this man a great dinner, we were enjoying some quiet movie time on the couch and my kitteh was snuggling too. Life was good.
Until it wasn't.
It was like I was being attacked. The raw, sour stench that crept up into my nose was just so foul, I couldn't even put a name to it. I kind of sat there for a moment, making sure I was actually smelling what I thought I was smelling. Now, if you ever smelled a pet fart, you know that it is nothing like a human fart. It's distinct aroma like curls your toes and makes your mouth water in the worst way. It kind of gets you int he back of the throat and you don't know if you need to cough or swallow--maybe get a glass of water. It's uncomfortable, unsettling and uncompromising. I waited to see if Harry smelled it too. He did....he def. did. "Yup" he said in acknowledgement of the odor that was encapsulating the two of us. I looked at Bruce, his eyes semi-closed in the most relaxed state with no attention to what had just happened.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry" I apologized to Harry as I could tell he was now among the mist of my kitty's bad stink. It was foul. I could taste it and it was awful. I almost gagged on several occasions but I knew that would cause the date to end early.
Harry was great about the whole thing. We even kind of chuckled at my gassy cat.
Bruce is normally really good at crop dusting me and being gassy with me. And normally it is with a really ornery attitude that he will do it. This was the most relaxed state my cat had ever been in when he decided to cut the cheese.
I think he was sending a message..... ;)
Poor Harry--he's got a road in front of him!
Peace and love and laughter all!