Forgot to mention grampy’s contribution to the tale of our woebegone grandkitty.
The kennel in which grandkitty had his smelly accident was exiled to the balcony. And thank goodness there was one.
Imagine spending the night in a studio…albeit an over-sized one…with no windows to open, and a sliding glass door that remained closed for the sake of security, not to mention the cold.
I would probably have slept at the furthest point away from the crate. Maybe standing up in the shower after I’d scrubbed it thoroughly…top to bottom. Me and grandkitty hiding out…with the bathroom door shut tight.
Fine for me anyway, seeing as how I “go potty”…while everyone else dozes.
Grandkitty’s crate would have been history if I had my way.
Not one to shrink from a challenge, grampy decided he’d save it…somehow.
“Good luck” I thought. Removing every piece of stuck poop would be some trick.
Lo and behold after moving to our daughter’s apartment, and after the movers had unloaded all her furnishings and left…grampy set about cleaning the cat crate.
Removing the pieces ever so carefully so as not to drop any poop, grampy took some kind of brush and scraped off all kinds of “unmentionables.” (I would have barfed for sure.) And then he took the pieces down to the basement laundry and ran them through one of the commercial washing machines.
Voila!!! Good as new.
I don’t think grandkitty’s been back in it yet, since he’s not been on a plane since that unfortunate, never-to-be-forgotten event.
…i’m sure you wanted to know what happened to the poor crate…