The "cherry on the cake" or "coup de grace" more likely, was finding out at 11pm as I finally reeled into bed that Ginger, my going-senile geriatric, had done a major and very wet poop between the heavy cupboard holding a monitor and players and a newly replaced sheet rock wall. She'd totally ignored the many litter boxes, both filled and unfilled, the newspapers over plastic and lino, all around her and squeezed into a space that would be most hellish for me to clean. I couldn't get the cupboard out without dismantling a day-bed so ended up heaving it a few inches, standing on one foot and with my nose nearly on the mess, slowly cleaning it all up.

And to think, I created this monstrous mess for myself.