gracie and the giant poo

in a picturesque, leafy residential corner of toronto, in a cheerful condominium apartment filled with colour, lives a petite grey cat named gracie. she is five years old. and she is extremely cute. gracie, whose fur is floofy and very very soft, lives in the apartment with her mummy, who makes sure gracie gets food and water and treats and toys and brushies and LOTS of cuddles. they love each other very much.

gracie lives a very good life. she likes to take long, lazy naps that last for hours and hours. sometimes, she sleeps so deeply and her breathing becomes so shallow that she appears motionless, so her mummy checks to make sure gracie is still alive. one of gracie's favourite games is to *not* move, react or respond when her mummy is doing this, which causes her mummy to momentarily panic. then gracie opens her eyes and laughs and laughs. silly mummy!

gracie enjoys curling herself into small, cozy spaces to sleep, and it doesn't matter if it's summer or winter, hot or cold, sunny or snowy. sometimes, gracie tucks herself into an old cardboard box that used to have a lamp inside. sometimes, she chooses to nap in a plush hidey-hole with little illustrated birdies on the outside. sometimes, it's a carpeted cubby in her new pink tower. and, sometimes, gracie just stretches out her small, lean body as far as it will go, wherever she happens to be: the bed, the floor, behind the couch, on her orange cushion, in the furry green nap chair, wherever.

gracie loves to talk. and talk and talk and talk. every morning when mummy wakes up, gracie greets her with lots and lots of meows and chirps and purrs, telling her mummy all about her nighttime misadventures, the bugs she might have eaten, the raccoons she watched from the window as they scurried across the street, the dreams she had while she waited for a new day to start.

gracie always announces herself when she enters a room. sometimes, she lets out a big, bold, loud, "HEY! it's ME!" meeeeeowr. sometimes, she just makes a sad little "meow," as though she feels lonely or scared or wants a hug. gracie also talks whenever she jumps onto something, or jumps off of it. she meows when she's getting cuddles she likes and when she's had enough. she also likes to play "marco polo" with her mummy, and will call to her in a faint little meow until her mummy answers with, "yes?". and gracie ALWAYS wants to add her two cents whenever her mummy is on the phone. with anyone. talking about anything. that's why mummy's friends and family members and colleagues and financial advisors and telemarketers and the receptionists at the dentist's office and so many others have all heard what gracie sounds like. gracie likes to be heard.

gracie is smart and funny. she knows exactly how to get her mummy's attention and how to make her mummy give her lots of cuddles. gracie loves rolling over on her back and twisting back and forth like an inchworm. mummy knows this is gracie's way of signalling, "let's have cuddles now, please!" gracie also loves watching TV with her mummy -- usually, while sitting on mummy's lap or while curled up next to her mummy on the couch. if gracie could, she'd have cuddles all day, every day.

gracie has a collection of toys that she loves. there's mousie, bigger mousie, fishie, sushi 1 and sushi 2, sparkles, and -- along with assorted balls and catnip logs -- her two love-to-hate-them arch-nemeses: the big rats. these two rats are about half of gracie's size and she just *loves* grabbing them in a choke hold with her front paws and then kicking and kicking and kicking them with her back paws like an angry rabbit. gracie will chomp on the rats' heads because she can taste the catnip that's inside. gracie loves these rats even though she very clearly wants to rip them open.

gracie is a delicate flower with an even more delicate constitution. there always seems to be something not quite right with her. maybe it's genetic, maybe it's allergies, maybe it's nerves. her mummy doesn't know. sometimes, gracie gets something her in right eye, which makes it all teary and causes her to walk around like a cyclops, with one eye shut. gracie has a little mole over that eye, and sometimes her forehead gets itchy, so she scratches and scratches until she breaks the skin right near that mole. then, gracie looks like she got into a street brawl. poor gracie!

gracie's back muscles sometimes twitch, which is common in cats, but that makes her lick and lick and lick her back with her rough, barbed tongue, and she accidentally gives herself a haircut. gracie is already a fastidious groomer, who constantly makes sure every inch of herself is super-clean at all times, but these unexpected haircuts go a teensy bit too far.

gracie also gets "snoofly" on occasion, which is like being "sniffly" except that she repeatedly blows air *out* of her nostrils instead of sucking it in. gracie can be snoofly for days, and sometimes weeks... and then her snoofliness just disappears. when gracie is snoofly, her mummy calls her "snoofalupagus." no one knows for sure what makes gracie snoofly, but her mummy is pretty sure it's caused by stress. or dust. or pollen. or all of those things. or none of them.

gracie, like many cats, is very particular about her food. and even more particular about where her food bowls are placed. gracie will eat kibbles in the bowl in the kitchen but will NEVER ever eat her wet food there. in the mornings, she will eat her wet food in the foyer, next to the shoes. she usually eats about half the serving, and will then pick at the remaining half for a few hours thereafter... but only after her bowl has been moved to the middle square on a patterned rug about four feet from the shoes.

in the evenings, gracie prefers to eat her suppertime wet food in the living room. her mummy has yet to figure out the "right" spot in which to place the food bowl because gracie changes her mind daily. if her mummy puts the food down in the wrong spot, gracie will turn up her nose and immediately walk away, as though her mummy has served up a steaming bowl of rotting garbage. mummy moves the bowl... but it's still not right, so gracie refuses to eat. eventually, and in a different place each night, mummy finally gets it exactly right and gracie immediately dives into her dinner. her mummy figures this is yet another of the games gracie plays to entertain herself at mummy's (exasperated) expense. poor mummy!

every now and again, and much to her mummy's consternation, gracie decides she doesn't want to eat food at all. none of it. unless her mummy serves it to her by hand. and, even then, she'll only eat a little. these spells can go on for a day or a few days, and her mummy always panics. but, eventually and for no discernible reason, gracie's appetite goes back to normal and her mummy heaves a sigh of relief that a vet visit isn't necessary.

gracie is quite brave for a cat. at least, as far as noise is concerned. unlike her cousin larry, who often runs and hides when loud noises happen, gracie isn't frightened by big trucks driving past or thunderstorms or deafening renovations in a nearby unit. in fact, gracie doesn't really seem to notice these things at all.

sometimes, if there's a particularly unexpected or sudden noise she's never heard before -- like mummy accidentally dropping a fork into the sink -- gracie will jump and run away... but she comes back very quickly to investigate the source of this previously unknown sound. the only thing that really scares gracie is the vacuum cleaner, which gracie has nicknamed "the terror machine." gracie does not like it when mummy takes the vacuum cleaner out of the closet, but is learning to be less afraid of it. in the beginning, gracie would flee to a safe corner far away from the terror machine whenever it made an appearance anywhere in the apartment. now, she remains asleep (but alert) on mummy's bed until the vacuum is within a few feet, and only then will gracie trot away to another room while mummy finishes cleaning.

but what about the title of this blog post, you ask? i've saved it for last. you see, while she has an endless array of charming quirks, one of gracie's most unusual -- and remarkable -- traits can be found in her litter box.

because even though she is diminutive in size and occasionally eats like a bird, little gracie can produce some impressively giant poos.

her mummy is always shocked and amused when she finds one of these monster-sized poos in the litter box in the mornings. gracie always does one pee and one poo overnight, and then a second pee sometime during the day. every single day. despite all her idiosyncrasies, gracie is regular! so, her mummy always cleans the box first thing, and that's when these enormous-for-gracie poos -- which are almost as big as a mid-sized dog might produce -- makes her mummy wonder how good (and relieved) gracie must feel after producing and expelling such a dramatic deposit.

gracie's mummy figures these giant poos are likely a result of gracie's hairball-formula food and treats, which have added fibre to help cats get excess hair out of their digestive tracts more easily. plus, gracie is a good drinker, who has two big drinks of water each day, which help the treats and food do their job even more effectively. as you've learned, gracie grooms herself thoroughly, and her medium-length hair means she's probably eating a lot of what she licks. so, she needs these special treats and food, and these special treats and food are a bit like feline metamucil. if you, as a human, have never taken metamucil, this comparison will mean nothing to you. if you have taken metamucil, you know what it does to your poop. that's what hairball treats and food, and lots of water, do for cats.

so it was that today, our gracie delivered yet another giant poo. and, as her mummy scooped it out into a little neon-green bag procured from dollar tree, she smiled. at the poo and her personality-filled, persnickety, perfectly petite small friend.