The past couple weeks thanks to Remy's troubles, the bathroom became the "sick room" so taking a shower was a complicated process. First we had to see if Remy wanted to be in his sick room or outside of his sickroom. But trust me, no matter where he was, the moment the water came on, he wanted to be in the other place, be it inside or outside.
Then, we had to move Remy's bed to the other side of the room, blocking the door, so that no water sprayed on it, again, whether he was inside or outside of the room.
Then, we had to move his food and water bowls for the same reason.
Then, we had to take the litterbox out of the shower (the only place we could put it, and still be able to get to other things in the room like the sink or the toilet.
Then, we had to scrub out the bottom of the shower, where Remy would have dumped litter.
Then, I could take a shower.
Then, I had to put all the stuff back again.
So, as I realized that what had become a 45 minute ritual was back down to about 20 minutes, I had this overwhelming sense of relief. "Wow, I can just take a shower again, this is so nice! I missed it so much!"
Then the price of this hit me. "Yeah, Darq, rejoice some more. You got your bathroom back at the price of the life of your cat... wheee, let's go out and celibrate, you selfcentered bitch. You'll never have the chance to hold him again, but what the hell, you can wash your hair real easy now!"
And I sat down on the john, wrapped in a towel and started crying my eyes out.
I know, deep down that I didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't feel guilty for not missing how Remy was towards the end. But a lot of things are easier said than done.
Goten and Chrissy are sleeping on my bed now, right behind me. You know, I really think they outed Remy from their number when he got sick, because they don't act at all different now that he's gone and he was here before either of them.