My Dad

Remember a while ago when I had the Cat Pee Problem? It's been cleared up since late summer, but there was a certain spot in a corner of what used to be the dining room that became a favorite. No matter what I cleaned that portion of carpet with, I could still smell traces of pee if I put my nose right up to it. It wasn't really a problem, though, since the cats left the spot alone and I never spent much time lying prostrate in the dining room, sniffing the floor.

Who knew, though, that months later I would turn the dining room into the living room? Who knew that once The Boy and I started spending most of our time in the new living room, the cats' interest in the corner would be renewed? Ugh. So I scrubbed the carpet again, to no avail. Then I made the bold, bold move of ripping out the carpet, scrubbing the floor with TSP (tri-sodium phosphate) which my dentist (who had a similar problem with his dogs) recommended. You know what? The cats are STILL interested in the freaking corner, and I busted one cat RED HANDED (pawed?), peeing like my living room is his own personal WC.

My solution? Make it so the stupid cats can't get into the corner at all. Right? If they can't get there, they can't pee there. Take that, Kitties! I don't possess any furniture that fits into that corner without allowing kitty access, so I decided to build one. I'm no master crafts(wo)man, but I know my way around a wood shop and was confident I could slap something together, once I had the right tools (I lost the power tools in the divorce).

So I called my dad to see if I could bring the wood, screws and hinges (because my table would have a hinged lid and serve as a box in which to store blankets) to his place and use his tools to make a table. He immediately started quizzing me about measurements and materials and finishing techniques. Gah! It took me a long time to convince him that I wasn't trying to build a masterpiece--literally the only portion of this box on legs that would be seen would be the table top--and once convinced, he told me to not buy anything before he had a chance to poke around and see what he could find for free. Fine. I like free.

So he called me Sunday to confirm the measurements I had given him, saying he found a piece of maple he thought might work for the top. There wasn't enough of the maple, though, so he again quizzed me about how I would finish the thing, and whether the top could be plywood, because he had enough of that. I assured him that plywood was fine, because I wanted to try to decoupage the top, anyway ("You want to WHAT? What the hell's that?"), and we dropped the subject in favor discussing The Boy's earlier soccer game, all wood working forgotten.

Or so I thought. My dad called me last night to tell me that he had the whole thing pretty much done. Done! I asked him to send me a picture, and then explained how he could send and receive pictures with his cell phone, something he was very skeptical about. He gave it a whirl, though, and here's the result:



How about that? It looks bigger than it is, because of the angle, but it should be perfect once I finish it. And the cats will be able to sit on it and look out the window but won't be able to get anywhere near the floor. Ha! We humans and our opposable thumbs will not be defeated by domesticated pets!

Hooray for my dad!