Trail of Turds


Everything was all set. The food had been prepared. The table was set. The toilet was scrubbed.  We were scheduled to have my side of the family at our house to celebrate Christmas. This is not the kind of thing that we do very often. We don’t get together as often as we should and we rarely convene at our house. Mrs. Brother Jack volunteered and we were ready to roll.  Our 16-year-old cat could sense the anxiety, I mean excitement, in the air.  I began the day with some meditative breathing. My deep breathing informed me that the cat had left a stinky present somewhere for me to find. She knows that I love playing games. I found and cleaned up a substantial pile of poop near the front door. Further inspection showed that this was not a singular incident. There was an excrement expressway running from the front door towards the kitchen. It wasn’t a solid stream but sporadic droppings. This led me to believe that I had found it all until I discovered the next little chunk. What a fun game we were playing. It seems as though her trail of turds led the entire way from the front door to her litter box in the basement.  At least she was headed in the correct direction.  However, I was not present when she laid the clues for our holiday scavenger hunt. Maybe the whole thing was going in the other direction.  Maybe she started in the right place and laid all her crap out for everyone to see. This might be a perfect metaphor for every family get-together that has ever occurred. 


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