Hmm. Another long suppressed memory.
In our grotty student house, two people had cats. Friendly furry little chaps they were, everybody enjoyed having them around.

One of them (Arnold) got locked in the bathroom, and crapped in the corner behind the sink. No problem, these things happen. Cleanup crew to aisle 6 please. The only problem was that the bathroom had carpet. OK, well a bit of extra scrubbing, job done.

Things returned to normality, Arnold once again returned to shitting in the garden, and burying it, as cats normally do.

Over the next few weeks, the faint smell of catshit in the bathroom began to pervade. Rather than fading, it grew. We scrubbed the carpet again, used some flowery ungents, but no, the smell just wouldn't go.

After about a month of this, someone decided the carpet must go. £7.50 was collected from the 4 residents, and 6 square metres of cheap lino bought.

When the carpet was lifted, we discovered that Arnold had apprently discovered the joy of not having to shit in a cold garden. He had worked out that if you pull at the corner of the carpet with claws, it lifts. You can then crap, and drop the carpet back down - burying it, right?

There must have been about 2kg of catshit piled up in there. *bowk*
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