It was at last time to buy new rugs. Throughout the apartment, I have my own, highly disposable rugs covering the building owners’ carpets, so that urine and vomit (the cats’, that is) doesn’t stain property for which I would have eventually to pay. Needless to write, the cats usually manage to do their horrible business just beyond the edge of any rugs I place as a protective measure.
But not always. It was time then to replace the rugs. The one in the library meant emptying bookcases and moving them and their contents, so as to unroll the rug under their positions. That was trying. Furthermore, the original rug did not serve its purpose entirely, as the cats had, as some point, wet on the carpet underneath, probably before I put a rug in that location. There is no escaping the slight smell of urine in one corner. But at least with a new rug, it is not obvious to me. Whether it is to the cats is another matter. I had hoped that the new item would help alleviate Tucker’s need to wet in that corner, but, alas, that has not happened. I continue to require a soaker-pad there which, of course, may be part of the problem: no matter how well it is washed, the pads undoubtedly retain traces of urine from previous incidents. But to remove the pad all together runs the risk of someone (who shall remain roly poly) wetting on the unprotected rug. It is a vicious circle.
The rug in the corridor will no doubt be more successful. No one ever wets there, though Parker tends to throw up on it quite a bit. I’ve no doubt it will need replacing in its turn. But for now, it is pristine. It was also too wide. The previous rug was not, but when I was searching for rugs to buy, the narrower ones were thrice as expensive as the wider, so I bought two and cut one of them down to fit. It doesn’t look quite even, but I never have visitors anyway, so except for these photos, no one will see it.
Buying the rugs was interesting. I found myself taking into account factors that non-cat people would never consider. Others might want a colour or pattern to hide pet accidents; I wanted one to show them. After all, I want to see whatever Parker throws up, in order to gauge the amount and frequency of his upchucking, as well as its content. The thickness of the rugs was measured in regard to urine soaking through them, and the backing was felt for the same reason. How well bits of litter or food would resist a vacuum-cleaner’s suction was pondered, and the basic question of how easily the fabric might be cleaned. I think I spent more time deciding on rugs than an interior decorator with a millionaire client.
But it’s done now. Tucker spent an afternoon avoiding the rug in the corridor, trotting along its edges. But he quickly realised that the strange smell would disappear the more he lie on it. As long as he doesn’t think the same advantage may be had by wetting on it, the results of my purchases will be satisfactory.