It wasn't just the physical exhaustion of scooping three litter boxes every day.
But also the mental weight of it. The constant checking. Every time I walked into a room I'd stop and smell the air.
Is it bad today?
Is it better?
Did the new litter help or is it exactly the same?
And every time my daughter called to say she was coming over with the kids, my stomach would drop.
Not because I didn't want to see them. I live for those visits.
But because I'd spend the next twenty minutes spraying, wiping, checking, re-checking, lighting a candle, opening a window, checking again.
She almost never said anthing about the odor. She's too polite for that.
But the kids would wrinkle their noses the second they walked in, and ask "what's that smell?" without a second thought.
I love my grandkids, and I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable, or that their grandma was dirty.
I wanted them to come over. To feel right at home. To run through the door excited to see Grandma and the cats. Not to walk in and wrinkle their noses.
So I kept trying. Anything and everything.
Arm & Hammer. Fresh Step. Dr. Elsey's. World's Best. Pretty Litter. Pine pellets. Activated charcoal. Crystal litter. Plant-based. Unscented. Extra-strength deodorising.
I changed the boxes. Tried Nature's Miracle enzyme spray. Baking soda. Febreze. Scented candles. Incense.
Some things helped a little for a few hours, but then the smell came back and I was back to square one.
I spent more money than I care to admit.
And I was tired. Not just physically tired from the scooping. Tired of trying things that didn't work. Tired of the cycle. Tired of hoping the new litter would be different and finding out three days later that it wasn't.
I remember sitting in my armchair one evening after cleaning all three boxes, staring at nothing, and just feeling... nothing.
No hope that the next one would be different. No energy left to try another solution.
Just a flat, tired feeling that said... you're going to buy it, bring it home, and in three days you'll be back here again.
At my age, I was just tired. Bone tired. Tired of trying. Tired of hoping. Tired of being disappointed. Tired of the smell winning every single time.
I just wanted to give up now, but I kept going.
And that's when I realised... I wasn't failing because I wasn't trying hard enough.
Because I'd been doing everything right. Cleaning multiple times a day despite my knees. Switching litters constantly. Trying every spray and deodoriser I could find.
And the smell kept coming back.
But I was failing because I was treating the wrong thing entirely.
Something else was causing it.
Something I didn't understand yet.