The cat just made his patented “oh good god I’m dying” noise and since I’ve only heard him make that noise when he really feels bad, I jumped up to see where he was. He was standing in the upstairs hallway about 2 feet from the carpeted end of the house–where he is not allowed to go. He was doing that thing cats do just before they hurl. I quickly walked over to him and under the guise of rubbing his back and shoulders (to make him feel better, of course) I moved him around so there was no worry of anything hitting that carpet.
The poor little guy hacked up some freshly chewed grass blades and then hurried down the stairs. He looked back to make sure I cleaned up the mess. I told him that he didn’t have to run away so fast since I was trying to make him feel better. He knew I was just looking out for the carpet so he flicked his tail and went into the family room.
One of our cats, now deceased, used to run from the linoleum in the kitchen of our old house, hacking in that whole body-convulsion that is a hairball upchuck, straight into the carpeted areas. And if that weren’t bad enough, he tended to keep walking around the carpet, leaving extra dribbles that were hard to find to clean up.
We had a kitty that could blow up like that too. He’s now in kitty heaven vomitin as much as he likes.