Lou has issues. Lots of them. And we’re not talking just regular cat issues here. The cat probably needs Kitty Prozac. For example, Lou likes to suck blankets but only a certain kind of blanket. And she prefers it be a blanket that is used primarily by me. Then there’s her whole aversion to being touched anywhere except her head. The list goes on and on…and on…

ANYway, another of her issues is that she’s bulimic. I know, I know — cats can’t be bulimic, you’re saying. Okay, maybe bulimia isn’t the right diagnosis, but I don’t know what else to call it when someone eats then makes herself puke. If you can come up with the right term, I’ll happily use it.

Any time we make even a slight change around here, Lou pukes. The bigger the change, the more she pukes. Let’s not talk about what happened when we got Liberty. I still wake up in cold sweats over that episode.

So, in the spirit of spring cleaning, I cleaned out the office and rearranged some furniture in here. Well, one of the things that got moved was the litter box. Poor Lou. Worse, it got moved from its original spot to a “stick it here ’til we’re done” spot and then to its current location. “Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless humans,” said Lou, “I will have my revenge.”

Lou’s revenge came sometime between midnight and 2:00 am. How can I know that? I went to bed at midnight, and when I got up at 2 to go downstairs to pump milk, I stepped in Lou’s revenge. I deserved it. I did move the litter box twice. In one day. I was practically begging for it really.

My cat is bulimic, and I’m blogging about it. I guess she fits in around here.