Cat Splat Fever

Polly: 73% banana mush

When you own multiple cats, even when you are down one cat as we’ve become, it is virtually impossible to determine which one is doing what in the litter box. Short of surveilling the cats’ (shall we say) movements, it’s all guesswork.

Even if you set up camp and kept watch on the box, you would still never know which cat did what because cats will only do what you want the moment you glance away. It’s just how cats are.

We wanted to know what was going down litter-box-wise because one or more of the cats was producing—and here I’m sensitive to the fact that you may be eating breakfast—mushed banana. Like really gross. Even when your litter is the clumping kind, mushed banana is the far opposite of scooping fun. Oh, and also there’s probably something wrong with your cat.

Last week, we had to take sister cats Polly and Ollie for follow-up vaccinations and had been advised by the vet to bring a banana mush sample for testing. After isolating the cats, we determined with 70 percent certainty that Polly was the resident banana mush dispenser.

Deb couldn’t get away, so I alone jammed the cats into separate carriers lined with old bathmats, grabbed the plastic bruschetta container holding the previous evening’s sample and loaded the carriers into the back seat of the car.

I was barely out of town when: “Oh my God…!” I phoned Deb from the road.



She began to laugh, knowing exactly what had happened. “Maybe now you can get a fresher sample.”

“I’m not getting a sample. Good lord… It’s horrible!”

We hung up. Marriage is about sharing these special moments.

I pulled into a parking lot, hoping I would be able to deftly flick the offending banana out of the cage and into a snowbank. I glanced in Ollie’s cage. She stared back. I opened Polly’s cage: banana mush splat on the bathmat. There would be no flicking.

I wrestled the mat out of the cage and balled it up while preventing Polly from fleeing down the 143. I stashed the folded mat into the trunk, sanitized my hands, sanitized my hands again and continued on to the vet, wondering what was French for “the cat bananaed herself.”

To their credit, the vet folks didn’t blink an eye or gag a reflex, even when Polly left suspect footprints all over the stainless steel examination table. I kept making “Phew! Ugh!” sounds to indicate that this truly was an exceptional stinkiness and that I am not a negligent pet parent. But they were cool; I’m sure they’ve seen (and smelled) worse.

At the end of the appointment, I corralled the cats back in their carriers and into the still-reeking car, went back into the vet, asked for a plastic bag, went back to the car, opened the trunk, shoved the soiled bathmat into the bag and drove on to Lennoxville to pick up Abby for the weekend.

This time I made it about 5 minutes.


I got to Abby’s apartment and grabbed three sheets of paper towels.

Three sheets were not enough.

When I opened Polly’s carrier, there was banana mush on the bottom, banana mush on the wall, banana mush undoubtedly somewhere on the cat. I opened the cage on the driveway, holding back the panicky cat with one hand while struggling to clean the plastic with the other. “Maybe if I put the cat in the back seat,” I thought, realizing too late that if there was undoubtedly banana mush somewhere on the cat, it would be on the feet. “Back in the cage!”

Having cleaned Polly and her cage as best I could, I checked on Ollie, who was staring out of her cage. Just inside her door sat a firm, ripe banana. Et tu, Ollé?

Thankfully it was flickable.

I warned Abby about the atmosphere in the car. She was not impressed. That made two of us. After disposing of the mess, sanitizing my hands, sanitizing my hands again, then washing my hands, we drove home breathing through our mouths. We tried opening the windows but that merely generated a swirling vortex of stink.

Long story short, we got home, carried the cat carrier to the bathtub, cleaned it and the cat, I released Polly, she skidded across the hardwood floor, I wiped down the car, moved the bagged bathmat to the porch to confirm whether Deb wanted to salvage it or burn it, put on a load of laundry, washed my hands five more times, and the whole afternoon cost me $277.46 plus gas.

On the plus side, we now know definitively which cat has the loose bowels.

About rossmurray1

I'm Canadian so I pronounce it "Aboot." No, I don't! I don't know any Canadian who says "aboot." Damnable lies! But I do know this Canadian is all about humour (with a U) and satire. Come by. I don't bite, or as we Canadians say, "beet."
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18 Responses to Cat Splat Fever

  1. kristawells says:

    Yeah yeah, who cares about you? I want to know what’s wrong with Pollie!

  2. cat9984 says:

    I’m with Krista – Is Polly OK?

  3. Wow, I know you didn’t mean to be insensitive, but your photo really raised some hackles and disturbing flashbacks, you must have heard about the force-feeding of bananas to cats. I’m sorry you brought this unapeeling memory back – – as they say in Congress, let lying dogs lie, or however that goes. Since the E.U. banned the mistreatment of geese, the Silk Road site has been selling a cat alternative, “pâté de foie gras mal de mer,” or something like that, I don’t speak French, it’s scandalous. Although I have to say, it’s not bad, I inadvertently sampled it at an underground dining club I frequent, they paired it with the crab bisque.

  4. Strike off bananas from your grocery list for the foreseeable future?

    Are you paying for all the cat wrangling into carriers etc or do we have to wait for another blog post? I know cats have very delicate feelings AND they are masters of holding a grudge… 😉

  5. franhunne4u says:

    Like others all I can say is, what ails your cat? When they are sure it’s no toxoplasmosis, and they seem to be as toxoplasms count as parasites, what can it be?

    • rossmurray1 says:

      Not sure. No diet change, and it’s been going on some time. Doesn’t seem bothered. We’ll try the meds (an anti-diaheretic, anti-inflamatory) (sp?) and see what happens before next steps.

  6. franhunne4u says:

    Concerning the big stink: I had to take a toxoplasmosis sufferer by taxi. Strange, when I booked the return trip it was never the same driver 🤔

  7. Jonathan says:

    I probably wasn’t supposed to laugh at this post. Our cat peed on the master telephone socket this week, and knocked out the broadband. Nobody can come up with any sort of reason why – unless the cat has figured out that the thing the big people look at on their lap is connected through the air to that little box on the wall… smart cat.

  8. pinklightsabre says:

    My vet advised us to get a nest camera. Can you imagine? You know we are really scraping the bottom of the jar here, now. I love it. This is where the best flavor is, the bouillon of our lives, as it were.

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