This morning, Psycho Cat excelled himself, the little fucker.

I’ve written before about his penchant for a “vindictive shit”, that when he’s displeased about something. It’s usually done somewhere unpleasant – previous examples have included in the office’s paper-recycling bin, under one of the desks, on a four-plug extension lead, on the bed (while we weren’t in it) and a couple of other places too. And then people wonder why we have tiled floors now.

Because I get up a lot earlier than Herself, I normally leave my clothes in the bathroom for the next day, get dressed in there so she can continue to sleep.

You can see where this is going, can’t you?

Yes, last night the cat – unamused by (I assume) the weather and/or the fact he couldn’t get into the bedroom (we’d closed the door) – went into the bathroom and crapped all over my clothes for today. I knew as soon as I walked into the bathroom this morning – it fucking stank – but by then all you can do is handle the fallout.

So there ended up being a load in the washing machine before 7am, and I don’t want to see the cat at all for at least a week. If I do, he might just end up in the next washing load.