10 p.m.

• Yet another reason why the better half and I better not produce any children (besides the hundreds of other reasons that go something like, “I’m too lazy to be a parent,” “I’d rather spend money on myelf” and “I hate children.”

Yesterday morning the alarm went off and I proceeded to trudge off to the bathroom for my daily shower. We feed the kids early in the morning and before we go to bed at night, so they’ve picked up when feeding time is and when I get up at 6:15 a.m. they start milling around; either that or they directly hop onto Mrs. kkk and start meowing in her face. Well, this morning Max was following me into the bathroom and started hanging out around the toilet. Weired. Before we got a drinking fountain for the three of them, Max would stand around the toilet when he wanted “fresh” running water. I thought nothing of this. As I take my morning shower, the better half feeds Max, Dessa and JJ. Well this morning I guess Max wasn’t eating, which prompted her to be in near-hysterics and telling me he wasn’t eating his dry food. Uh, OK. Now we’ve had some problems with his pee-hole being clogged, but he only lost his appetite when this condition got severe, and he displayed no evidence of having strained litterbox activity. When I got out of the shower I looked into their feeding room and saw that Max was going to town on the water fountain. I asked Mrs. kkk if she gave them fresh water. She said yes. After a while when Max was finished I gave him some of his food, which he ate. I pointed this out to the better half, but she still said she was still “worried.” OK. Well, the special food we buy the three of them contains no filler, so the vet told us that it’s common for them to not eat everything we give them. Going about my Friday morning routine, which included taking any full garbage bags downstairs through the basement and garage and out to the curb. That’s when I figured out why Max probably wasn’t hungry.

There was cat vomit all over the basement floor. But it wasn’t food-related. It was from a nasty hairball (or three) that he must have thrown up last night. Makes sense, considering one of his toys that he usually plays with was nearby. I pointed this out to the better half and let her know that my guess as to last night’s events were as follows:

1) With the warm weather, Max is shedding like a fiend.

2) Max threw up some hairballs and instead of eating he wanted to drink fresh water to get the taste/any irritation out of his system.

Even though he ate after I fed him, he didn’t eat his entire quarter-cup of food, which still prompted the better half to spend the whole day fretting. Of course, at 7:30 p.m. that evening Max began following Mrs. kkk around the house, trying to guide her to their feeding room for an early supper. Oh, and he cleaned his bowl once they all got feed. I asked her afterward, “You still worried, psycho?” Christ, if kkk Jr. ever springs from her loins, that kid will be lucky to be out of his protective bubble for longer than two minutes.