Several months past, when Grey Kitty (aka Erasmus, aka Raz) was hanging around, Handsome Tom was a deeply unhappy kitty. This was his territory, after all. He'd worked long and hard to stake his claim (read: he'd flopped down, been excessively adorable, and feigned all manner of bravery against the local fauna) 'till we finally brought him indoors.* He displayed his unrest in the most succinct manner possible: he sprayed. Far more than I want to think about. Numbered among the innocent victims in this 'rage against the cuddly interloper' were our cat carriers, stored in the basement and thus easily missed in the immediate response to HT's distress.
So. Several weeks past (when it was time for kitty checkups) I realized what had happened, and took the carriers outside that I might fully scrub them down.
And then life got in the way.
So. A few weeks after THAT, said carriers continued to grace my back patio.
And then baby raccoons got in the way. Adorably.
Mama showed up with three wee ones (and really - what is it with raccoons and triplets? is it just our neck o' the woods?) and reveled in the playground I'd left them. I know they're pests. I know they are not to be encouraged in any way, and trust me - we are far more careful about how we dispose of our scraps. But still... they're really freaking cute, and I cooed like hell over the, even if it meant scrubbing those blasted carriers with bleach. And enzyme solution. And bleach.
*whereupon we found that while he was still ever so handsome, that bravery thing was utter bollocks.