Sunday...a not so auspicious beginning

At first the morning seemed innocent enough. We slept in a bit. Coffee was made, and orange danish rolls were ready to pop in the oven. The weather was lovely, so I opened the back door to let the cats go out in the morning sun for a little while. I decided to strip our sheets off the bed and give those a wash, so I could have fresh clean linens for the night.

So there I was in our bedroom, sheets in my arms when I heard Bruce saying some loud expletives. What??? It was a lovely morning, what in the world could be interrupting us? I walked down the hall to find chaos. Omen apparently had a hair ball and was vomiting copious amounts of cat puke all over the study. Poor thing....everytime she caught her breath the retching would start all over. It was everywhere, and Bruce was yanking out the carpet cleaner, and telling me to get her out of there. So I locked the cat in Erica's bathroom (vinyl flooring) and tried to assess the damage.

First of all, I am not good with medical emergencies. Neither human or animal. If something or someone gets sick, or injured, I panic completely. My ability to think and react just goes out the window. A vomiting cat is probably not the end of the world, but in my panicked mind, its trips to the emergency vet, and I start feeling like it is the most devastating thing ever. I was almost in tears, shaking like a leaf....I am not proud, but it is what it is.

On the other hand, my almost perfect husband has the opposite reaction. He is able to deal with the situation, but he also starts barking orders like a drill sergeant, and yelling. Like at some point, he yelled that we were about to have outdoor cats. A few expletives here and there. Stuff like that. And none of that, the yelling and barking of orders helps me at all. It has the opposite effect, making me unable to think or function even more. But like my own reaction, maybe he just can't help it. I guess it really would be difficult to be calm and zen, making mild suggestions of what needs to be done....LOL.

So then, while he is running the carpet cleaner, he ordered me to go check on the cat. Omen was so freaked out, scared out of her mind, and when I cracked open the bathroom door, she bolted. Right under our bed. And started vomiting all over again. Under! My! Bed!! Our gigantic, king-sized bed that is impossible to move unless you dismantle it. OMG, to say that I was freaking out is an understatement. I got Bruce, who was feeling completely disgruntled by then. He managed to get Omen out from under the bed. But we had to take the mattress and the box springs off the frame so I could scrub the spots on the carpet. Luckily, the vomiting was subsiding so it was just a small spot. But still...it had to be cleaned.

Anyway, we survived. Omen coughed up a doozy of a hairball, so that was probably all that was wrong. She has been fine for the rest of the day but I have been keeping a close eye on the situation. I think we scared her half to death....my poor baby. All the carpet is cleaned and my bed has been put back together. I had been meaning to rotate the mattress anyway. Its a pillowtop, so it can't be flipped. We have to rotate every few months to ensure even wear.

In all the chaos, the orange danish rolls got a bit overdone, but not so burned as to be inedible. And the rest of the day has been fine. I had errands to run, Bruce did yardwork. No more puking cats, thank you Jesus.
But it was not a fun start to the day. I certainly would NOT want a repeat of this morning at ALL!