The Mysterious Mat

Ellie and I have a morning ritual.  It involves a tail thwacking my lips, sharp claws clutching into my skin as I roll over in bed trying to avoid said tail, and then the inevitable cuteness of motorboat purrs vibrating my back as she lays there triumphant on her human cushion.  Sometimes I grab her and wrangle her down to lay beside me and not on me, but most of the time she perches between my shoulder blades if I am on my tummy, or she snuggles up persistently beneath my chin if I am on my back.  On one particular morning last week, she came in for our ritual and just as she was curling up on my hip, I grabbed her and snuggled her.  As I pet along her tummy I felt a large, oddly shaped mat.  It was somewhat wet - which I attributed to her atrocious drinking manners - and it was harder than a traditional mat.  I honestly imagined the worst and figured she'd somehow managed to get a large poop stuck to her puff-ball body.  With a grimace I gently pushed her away from me and to the edge of the bed.  She let out a squawk as I nudged her over.  The squawk wasn't the only think I heard; from elsewhere in the apartment I heard my father saying something like 'ah, look at this mess.'  The discovery of a mess didn't really strike me as odd - we often have messes and they are often caused by Ellie.  It wasn't until later that I wondered if the mess had anything to do with the lumpy wetness in the cat's fur.

Time seemed to slip away and I found myself rushing in a mad dash getting ready for work.  I was already out the door before I could really discuss this mysterious mat with Hannah or with my parents and so I headed out figuring that someone would find it in their heart to rid the little Black Persian of whatever in the hell she'd managed to get stuck to her.  When I returned home that night, the mystery had been solved.  The mess my father had come across was an overturned vase of roses.  There was water all over the wet bar between the kitchen and dining room as well as all over the floor.  Roses, petals, and large leaves decorated the place in a ravaged state.  Hannah's words to me that night were of this variety: "So, one of the cats decided we didn't need roses anymore.  And I know which one it was because the little shit had evidence stuck in her fur.  She had a huge rose leaf on her!"  That explained the oddly shaped mat as well as the wetness.  My first reaction was relief - so I hadn't been inadvertently stroking poo that morning, this was a good thing! - my next reaction was to giggle.  It was just like Ellie to toddle off from the scene of the crime dressed in pieces of the mischief.  The cat has no poker face, and arguably, no face at all.

This is not Ellie (she is the least photogenic cat in the world)
but this is close enough!