Cat pee on my shoulders…makes me stinky

Here’s a sad thing: It’s December and we have absolutely no holiday spirit in our house. It’s like we can’t feel Christmas or Yuletide or Feastmas or anything. We are numb. Is this the result of having Christmas shoved down our throats since the end of August? Are we becoming even more curmudgeonly? Are we really pod people from the planet Mars and have no actual emotions? I don’t know. All I know is that I do not have the vim or vigor required to create fabulous holiday posts, not like last year.

Instead, I’m going to talk about our cat, Evie.


So small, so precious. Such a sweet baby.
Or IS she?

Evie has a thing about peeing. It’s a fetish, really. And, apparently, I do it wrong.

Here’s what happened:

Sometime this past summer, Evie realized that as soon as I get home from work, I run upstairs to the bathroom. She’s been with us since 2008 but only just now noticed this habit of mine. Anyhow, one day, curiosity got the best of her (she is a cat, after all) and as I headed toward the tinkletorium, she raced me up the stairs and into the bathroom to see what I do in there. The moment I sat down, she scurried over, sat in front of me and watched me, watched me pee. It was weird. But it got weirder. She started rubbing against my legs and then she checked my progress, poking her nose between the seat and the bowl. Was she sniffing what I’d had for lunch? Was she making sure it was my pee coming out and I wasn’t faking it? She purred and…well, encouraged me, rubbing against and looking up at me like she was letting me know I was doing a good job.


“How’s it going in the potty? Are you doing this right? Let me see. I need to see if you are peeing the right way.”

Evie, I’ve been peeing for 41 years and 39 of those peeing years were done on toilets. Mostly. I think I’ve got this down by now.

As I finished, she hopped up on my lap and gave me nose kisses. “Good job, Mommy! You peed correctly! You are so smart!” Then she hopped back down and waited for me to clean up, stand up, and flush the toilet.

OHMYGOD, the toilet flushing. It’s so magical.

She stood, little cat hands on the seat, and watched everything swoosh down the hole with an intensity usually reserved for dogs and food or children and candy. When the flush finished, she leapt upon the seat and stuck her entire front half into the bowl where she started playing with the potty water, splishing it and splashing it and even drinking a bit. Because she is a classy lady.

This has become a ritual.  Every. Damn. Workday. And it’s not like I can just evade her or shut her out or pick her up and toss her down the stairs violently. You try catching a cat on a mission when your bladder is full-up and ready to burst.

Since she’s so fussy over peeing, you’d think she’d confine hers to the litterbox, right?

She doesn’t.

Her poop, yes. She’ll come racing in from whatever she was doing outside to run downstairs and into the bathroom where she shuts the door and poops in her box. But pee? Oh, her nasty cat pee is the ultimate weapon.

Should we forget to clean her box one day, she’ll pee on the couch.

If Gabe is too unloving throughout the morning, she’ll find his important papers and pee all over them.

This started when we got her. I took her to the vet for the very first time, it was a bad experience for us both, and that night, she squirmed her cute little kitten self up onto the bed, walked right up my legs, glared at me, squatted, and peed all over the comforter while staring straight at me. And then she took off. I was stunned.

She’s used this weapon against us ever since.

The worst, though, was the one time we angered her beyond measure. I don’t recall what it was we’d done, but I remember telling Gabe, “Oh, we’re going to pay for this!” hoping she’d get something that could be cleaned and wouldn’t have to be tossed. We were on the lookout for days but found nothing. During that time, we cleaned the house, folded the laundry, dusted, all that jazz…and no pee. I thought maybe our little girl was growing up and finding better ways to express her anger.


Evie dreams of getting us back. That’s what she does all day long.

I was wrong.

One day, maybe a few weeks after The Angering Incident, whatever it was, I got dressed for work, ran downstairs, put my jacket on and left the house. When I got to work, I removed my jacket and sat down and…smelled cat pee. I sniffed around. It wasn’t on my chair. It wasn’t on my jacket. Not my shoes. Not anything else nearby, not that anything else could have been peed upon; I was at work. But the longer I sat there, the stronger it became.

Finally, I got fed up and went to the bathroom. I took off my shirt and examined it with my nose. Guess what? Evie sprinkled little bits of pee on the back shoulder of the shirt when it was in the clean laundry basket. She did it in such a way that it dried quickly and was not smellable when we folded our clothes. It was sleeper agent pee, activated when the shirt was on the body. The more the shirt warmed up, the stronger the scent became. Of course, this wasn’t a shirt that I could go without for the day as I wasn’t wearing anything else underneath or over the top.  And I was super poor at the time so couldn’t run to Target or the thrift shop to buy another shirt. Also, I live 20 minutes from work so it’s not like running home to change was an option. And it had gotten onto my bra strap, anyhow, so I was all peed up no matter what.

I did what anyone would do in this situation. I put my shirt back on, found some Lysol, returned to the bathroom, sprayed myself down, waited for that smell to dissipate a little, returned to my desk and put on a sweater, hoping to mask the odor of urine du chat. When anyone came near me, I yelled at her to stand back and hold her breath; we’d communicate via sign language and she’d better be obvious since I don’t actually know ASL.

It was a long day. I was so angry when I got home. I lectured Evie. She smirked at me, amused at her wicked clever ways.

You know what? Now that I’m remembering all this, I think when I get home tonight, I will miss the toilet and pee on her. We’ll see how she likes it.


How can something that started out this sweet be so very evil? How??


Filed under Adventures, In my backyard, Tales from Toiletopia

10 responses to “Cat pee on my shoulders…makes me stinky

  1. My newest cat, Arthur, must share the same pee/poop fetish because let me tell you, the minute I am on the toilet, he has to stick his nose in places I’d prefer he didn’t, to see what is going on. He tries to lift up the toilet bowl cover after I’ve closed it. It’s crazy. He also likes to pee (and poop!) spontaneously in unexpected places though praise be, he hasn’t done it in awhile, so maybe it’s not a vengeance thing for him???

    Evie is beautiful and just needs more worshiping from you, clearly. 🙂

    • Oh, but Arthur is SO cute. Especially with a moustachio. And he’s a baby. Babies learn by being bad. Or so I’ve heard.

      Did Evie tell you to write that? About her needing more worshipping? Because that sounded suspiciously like something she’d tell us.

  2. Kathy Clarke

    Oh pee and poo are never far from our minds because we got-not a cat pee problem-but a new puppy. We are so intelligent we decided to get a puppy right before XMAS. We are brain surgeons I know. She refuses to be potty trained. Why go outside when you can comfortably poo/pee in a nice warm house? We are at our wits end. She is a blue heeler/great pyranees. Very strong willed and cute beyond measure. We are determined to get this done- thank god for a good washing machine and the invention of paper.

    • Oh, Kathy, your poopy puppy sounds precious!
      Don’t worry, potty training will become easier in the spring. And afterward, you can reward yourself with new carpets. 😉
      And at least she’s being obstinate because she’s a baby and it’s cold out, not because she’s malicious like Evie.

  3. Ha to sleeper agent pee!!! My dog used to get diarrhea every time he was upset. He always saved it for my bedroom when he was upset with me.

    • Animals are so rotten! SO rotten! Why are they evil? Why do they do these vengeful things? And then how do they get away with it over and over?
      Oh, right. They give you their cute faces and love and sad eyes and all of a sudden, everything is ok again.
      Man, I hate them and their manipulations.

  4. #1 – Your cat is adorable. She looks kind of like mine.
    #2 – OMG, my cat is EXACTLY THE SAME. Following me into the bathroom, etc. And lately, she’s taken to passive-aggressively peeing in the kitchen and OH SWEET GEORGIA BROWN THE SMELL!!!! I’ve bleached, scrubbed, sterilized, and the smell won’t go away. It makes me want to weep in the corner.

    • 1) She agrees. That she is beautiful, I mean. (and VAIN!) Is yours all full of self-love, too?
      2) GAH! WHY WHY WHY?? IT’s SO GROSS! I think they have a super special Anger Pee, one that smells particularly vile and can’t ever be fully cleansed. Do you attack people who come to visit, asking them, “Can you smell cat pee? Be honest. I can’t smell my own house anymore. Can you smell cat pee? What about in this room, can you smell it in this room?”
      Poor us. 😦

  5. 1. Find you cat’s irrespective urination
    2. cats spraying
    3. Clean the dirty
    4. Add extra litter box
    5. New introduction with new cats

    Mentioned points are very important role in cat peeing. See the full video to know more about your cats stop your cat peeing on bed and clothes.

    • I find that comment to be very enjoyable.

      Sadly, my cat would need an anger management class, not more litter boxes or fewer family members, to stop peeing on my things.

Don't be shy! I'd love to get a comment from you! Maybe one or maybe two-

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s