Bob and I drove back to Rochester for our wedding and to spend Christmas with our families. While we were in Podunk Town, Colorado Bob noticed an odor of sorts and we quickly discovered it was coming from Paco’s rear end. He had pooped in his cat carrier and it was smeared all over his fur. After trying to find a Petsmart or grooming station within an hour’s drive, we were out of luck and needed to clean Paco up fast.
Bob entered a gas station, let the teenage attendant know our cat had a “small accident” in the car and she said it wasn’t a problem if Bob and I washed him in the bathroom sink. 5 minutes later, Bob, Paco and I were in the men’s room of a gas station crowded around a sink. Bob had plastic bags on his hands while washing Paco’s bottom with liquid hand soap from the dispenser. My job was to hold Paco still in the sink so bob could get him clean but I wasn’t much help. I was too busy alternating between laughing and choking back vomit while gagging on the smell.
The icing on the cake was when a man walked into the men’s room and Bob said “Yo. We’re washing our cat” and the guy laughed a left. By the time Paco was finally getting clean the warm water had run out and it was cold. The poor little guy was shaking and traumatized. The good news is that Paco learned it isn’t fun to poop in his cage and he didn’t do it again.
The rest of the trip was uneventful unless you consider me rolling down my window to spit gum out, but missing the giant hole and spitting my gum on the ceiling and having it bounce back and stick to my sweatshirt as eventful.
