Those words were spoken by my husband last night, when he went upstairs to feed the pets.
So I was curious. I carried Jack upstairs so I could smell it too. But I thought it just smelled sort of musty and warm upstairs like we needed to crack a window and get some air moving or something. And then he opened the door to the pet room (yes, we have a “pet room”), took a whiff, and declared it to be coming from in there. So I rolled my eyes thinking he was being overly dramatic and probably a cat pooped somewhere it shouldn’t have or something since they had just spent the last week in there while we were on vacation. I handed him the baby and I went in to find the kitty accident.
And Holy Crap but it smelled like something died in there. Big time.
So I set off looking for the source of the smell. I checked the actual litterbox area, around the dog crates, the cat beds, their scratching posts (yes, posts, plural, my pets are spoiled, what are you trying to say?!), and under the sewing table because that’s where Tili spends a lot of her time (for who knows what reason) and I found nothing that I believed to be the source of the smell.
Next I checked the closet where we keep the pet food and toys and other miscellaneous pet related stuff (and you’d probably be surprised at how much we have.. or maybe you wouldn’t). And I found nothing.
That left the only thing in the room I hadn’t examined to be the roomba. The roomba that hasn’t run in… oh… I don’t even know how long. It’s been a while. So I crouched down, picked it up, and HOLY SHIT PEOPLE, there was a DEAD MOUSE stuck to the bottom! (!!!!!!)
So I did what any sensible person would do. I shrieked, dropped the roomba, and ran out of the room to regain my senses.
Nate called up to ask if I was OK, and of course I was. Just startled. I would also like to point out that at no time after I explained about the DEAD MOUSE did he offer to take care of the situation, which means one of two things. Either I’ve done a great job of convincing him that I’m not a squeamish wuss and I can totally handle dead things, no problem (which, sometimes I can), OR he thought it was just as gross as I did and was hoping that I would just take care of it on my own so that he wouldn’t have to.
And of course at no time after finding the DEAD MOUSE did I even consider asking him to take care of it, because I am not a squeamish wuss who cannot handle dead things. Mostly.
So after a short chat we decided we can, in fact, live with one fewer roombas in the house so back up I went with my rubber cleaning gloves, some spot shot, febreeze, my bissel “little green” cleaner, and a garbage bag.
I put the roomba straight into the garbage bag. I considered looking again, just to verify, but I figured I could live with the assumption that the mouse was (a) still dead and (b) still stuck to the bottom. I was extra relieved when I picked it up and there was not a dead mouse laying on the ground because after dropping the roomba I had a terrible suspicion that the force may have been great enough to dislodge the mouse. I was glad to be wrong.
After taking the trash out I cleaned the area with spot shot, then I cleaned it with my bissell cleaner and then I febreezed the entire room for good measure.
I have to say it smells better in there this morning, but still not great. I’m not entirely sure how to get the smell out of that room without burning it down and starting over, but I guess we’ll do the best we can!
In the mean time we’re going to clean the crap out of that room and make sure that no amount of pet food remains on the ground, and I’m also going to give my cats a stern talking to, because finding a DEAD MOUSE under the roomba AFTER it had started to smell is really not what I expect from cats. Couldn’t they have at least warned me!? Shown a little extra interest in the roomba or something?! But no. Apparently not.