my person is reasonably tolerant of the occasional hygiene faux pax. once in a while, right guard goes left, breath is not so much "crest" as tumbled over a cliff, and starbucks stains happen-- not to her, of course. when she encounters the victims of these random acts of olfactory violence, she tries to remember that these are good people that are just a little down on their luck of the irish (spring).
having said that, she has asked me to send out a special message of care and concern to someone she sees daily:
stop eating out of the kitty litter box.
