If we had any misgivings about our house when we bought it, it was about the fact that it has wall-to-wall carpeting. White carpeting. Okay, not white-white, there having been one house on the market when we were hunting that advertised that and even offered to dye it. But off-white carpeting is close enough because it has the same drawback: it shows cat puke.
At least it’s Berber and relatively easy to scrub. Our previous house had shag when we bought it and was more of a pain to clean, but it was beige-ish so the puke didn’t show in high contrast. But carpeting isn’t that much of a luxury in Tucson anyway, so we eventually had it torn out and replaced with tile. The cats of course made it a point to either hurry over to an area rug when they had to puke or, if they had to puke on the spot (which always seem to be the case*) aim for the grout.
*Like all cat owners, we’re grateful to have critters that know how to use a litter box. I can attest to any number of times when a trapped cat, once freed, made a beeline to the box after holding it for too long. But the same rules don’t apply to puking. When the spirit moves them, they do it where they stand. Then move a few paces and do it again. Three times seems to be the routine cycle for most of ours. Sometimes it’s furballs. Sometimes it’s pet grass. Sometimes it’s kibble perhaps too hastily ingested in the middle of the night. And as any cat owner knows, there’s nothing quite like being awakened from a sound sleep by the hydraulic sound of puking.
White carpets being subject to getting dirty fast anyway, a rug shampooer was an early purchase after moving it in. There was no sense in having a pro come in when the odds were good that within 48 hours after his having rendered our carpets spotless one of our cats would put his work to the test. (Is it like dogs having to pee every ten feet when they go walkies?) Better to handle it ourselves as needed, we reasoned, than to singlehandedly pay for the carpet cleaner’s kids’ college education.
The shampooer works just fine. Like so many of the reviewers on Amazon observed, it’s shocking just to see the color of the rinse water. But in a certain light, you’d swear there was still this pattern of former puke spots, so in addition to the shampoo we bought the spray bottle of spot treatment. Spray, wait ten minutes, then blot. “If needed, repeat.” Somehow it’s always needed.
Then a few days ago while satisfying home-improvement cravings at Home Depot, we decided to check out other pet-stain-removal options. And that’s where we discovered, in amongst the containers bearing the images of cute, if not sufficiently guilty-looking, dogs & cats, the stark white plastic bottle of Folex.
As stated in their on-line spiel, which reads as if it’s been transcribed from a late-night commercial on some local VHF channel, “Even cleaning pet accidents is easy.” And boy, is this stuff good. Not only is it easy to use – work it in with your fingers, then blot it out – it actually works. And I’m not just talking about the cat puke I discovered the other morning that had had enough time overnight to really sink in; it even took care of the mystery grease spot left behind by the previous owners that no combination of cleaning agents had even come close to removing before. (We were fully prepared to list it as a formal disclosure should we sell the house, something our sellers hadn’t done.) The does-not-work review posted on Amazon in the shadow of 30+ raves has to be from a competitor.
It’s only a matter of time (well, probably years) until we give up on the white carpeting entirely. But until then, the kitties can puke at will. And maybe we can look forward to that inevitable red-wine spill with less dread.
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