Cleanliness is next to Godliness (and I'm screwed)
A week before the 3rd surgery a good friend who I’ve known since I was 10, came by to help me clean my house so that when I did return it would be all set. Now I am the first to admit, that the house tends to get a little hairy with 2 dogs and 2 cats. Add crutches, a walker and a cane to the mix, and cleaning the house wasn’t exactly my #1 priority.
As my friend cleaned up in the kitchen, I attempted to “pick up” the bedroom. I was doing my best to put things away and straighten and throw anything away that I could.
Under my bureau I happened to notice an orphaned black sock. With one of my crutches I began to poke at it and try and drag the lonely sock out. No luck. It wasn’t moving. It was stuck.
I tried with a broomstick handle, nothing. My friend, after looking at this feeble attempt of mine to clean, came in and offered to get the sock.
She promptly moved the bureau, looked down at the floor, looked at me and said, ”I fu#@*^g HATE you.” “What’s your problem”? I said. As I looked down there was one of my cats, dead. She had been missing for oh, 3 or 4 days.
I have no idea when she died.
She didn't smell. She was a little stiff and had her eyes open.
I did manage to close them. Her little front claws were wrapped around the telephone wire. Was she trying to call 911?
My dogs, which sleep in my room every night, 1 foot away from the bureau, had no idea.
Needless to say, my friend won’t help me clean my house anymore.