The CATastrophy

I woke up this morning, with an extra spring in my step, yet my mood soon became clouded with the thought of taking Pixie over to get her tummy tuck (aka, spaying). I felt so guilty, I nearly took a little white pill to calm me down. The dread, the thought of my little cutie pie going through such a traumatic experience, I can't just imagine. My little bunny.

I had it all planned. Wake up extra early, allow about 45 minutes to gently coax my little minx into the carrier using her favorite feather toy, feed the other babies, and be on my way to the shelter that sponsored Spay Day. Ahhh what a nice little plan...

Here's the result of the @%$&*@$ plan...

My house is literally upside down. I mean, I had to split the sectional, both parts are upside down right now (she was hiding for a while inside the armrest, yeah, the actual INSIDE of it…), my bed has been completely dismantled (maybe she was hiding inside the box spring). At one point, I thought I had maybe accidentally smothered her, as the mattress folded onto itself as I was removing it --- it's a very heavy tempurpedic...

I’ve got the kitchen chairs all over the place (we did a little Benny Hill routine between the living room and the kitchen for the first hour or so), the fridge has been pulled away from its area (there's a space underneath it by the motor where kitties can hide, but usually don't), cabinets were open and closed numerous times as I became more and more frantic, also looked on top of the kitchen cabinets, as one of the other cats seems to deeply enjoy the view, the sofa cushions are
all over the living room, as are the fancy pillows...

My duvet, bedsheets, pillows are somewhere between the wing chair and the floor in the bedroom...The two storage bins I keep under the bed are on their sides with some of the contents spilled onto the carpet, the cat food is in the bathroom
(I know, it’s just where it ended up during the Great Chase)...

But finally, 2 calls made to the shelter (one explaining I couldn't find my cat, and no, she's not an outdoor cat, well, she's tiny and black, can hide anywhere in a one-bedroom condo...a giggle or two in the background...second to say that after only 3 HOURS, I had caught the little stinker).

I left the house without feeding the other two cats (I had to remove all food the night before, because Pixie wasn't allowed to eat prior to surgery), my face completely red, my hair all disheveled, 3 very VERY upset kitties (all traumatized forever, and I'm sure, already planning the next attack on yours truly), my potty mouth needing a good cleaning (I think at one point, I actually called them all bitches), and a vow to never let these three cookies boss me around (yeah, ok, like that's EVER going to change).