I've taken on foster-parenting duties to two felines belonging to brother Nick and his wife Cindi. They are expecting twins sometime soon, and the needs of the new additions will undoubtedly take precedence over the cats', so I volunteered to take a load off, at least temporarily. (The two dogs get to stay at their house.) Lincoln and Truman arrived here on Sunday, and I had several days clear before the "scarf and barf" began. It seems that Truman loves to eat really fast, but has a bit of a hairball problem. Apart from hacking like a chain-smoker several times a day, he also decided to hack up his breakfast this morning. On the carpet, of course. Yeah, I've got to work that bit of duty into my morning routine. Along with litter-box scooping.
So my place pretty much smells like Friskies, barf, and cat poo. What a combination. I can see why Cindi burns candles at her place.

There were also adjustments to be made in the bedroom, and I think we've come to an amicable settlement wherein the cats get the bed during the day when I'm at work, and I get it any other time I can throw them out and close the doors. Otherwise, they pretty much have the run of the place.