Look upon my Roomba, ye mighties…and despair
Two things you might not know about Little Joe: 1) sometimes, when he’s startled, he jumps up and to the side with all four feet all Vanilla Joe “Stop! Collaborate and SPIDER!”; 2) other times, when he’s startled, a little round piece of startle poo comes out of him.
Why am I telling you this? Oh, you know, no reason.
So anyway, about my Roomba, Alfred. I get the occasional email asking me how he’s working out, and I had a TN FAQ item about him, but since I haven’t gotten around to updating that (…sorry), I’ll just fill you in now. Generally speaking, he’s great. I put him down, press Clean, and he picks up all the big stuff; when he’s done, I follow up with a quick Swiffing. A Roomba does not produce a surgical clean, but it does pick up a pretty amazing amount of stuff — as I found out recently when he stopped working.
Alfred didn’t stop working completely; it’s more accurate to say that he started ailing, and a Roomba that is trying to work, but can’t, is really quite pathetic, especially when you’ve anthropomorphized him. I would press Clean, he would sing his time-to-clean song, and then he would circle a couple of times and pause, confused. Then he would circle again, and pause again. This would go on for a while; the cats, at whom Alfred used to pitch his woo as though it were a Nuke LaLoosh fastball, no longer felt threatened in the least, and would come in and sit near him with curious but condescending expressions. You know that scene in The Four Seasons where Sandy Dennis is pacing around in the garden and Carol Burnett and Rita Moreno are like, “Sandy Dennis is our friend but oh my God she is so weird with the zucchini photographs”? And you feel bad for Sandy Dennis, but you also wish she’d get it together and stop being so depressed-art-teacher with the serapes and the inappropriate mirthless chuckling? Are you…going to act like you’ve never watched that movie, which is on Channel 55 in the New York market, like, daily? Okay, you’re too good for Vivaldi and Alan Alda now. Fine. But that’s what it’s like.
I didn’t know what to do. I tried charging Alfred; it didn’t work. I tried draining the battery and then charging him, because sometimes when my iPod gets cranky, that works; no dice. I ordered a new Roombattery from eBay; it didn’t help. I went onto irobot.com and watched the help video for cleaning the filters, and I discovered a little fine-lint trap on Alfred that I hadn’t even known existed prior to that, and I felt really bad because it was totally clogged with cat hair and crumbs and earring backings and whatnot, so I figured that would do it, but it didn’t. So, with Alfred circling disconsolately and the cats napping practically on top of him, I went back to irobot.com and sent a pleading email to customer service.
The rep politely ignored the fact that I referred to my Roomba as a “he,” and told me I probably needed a software upgrade — which they send for free, and which arrived the next day, even though I couldn’t find the warranty and didn’t have a proof of purchase or anything. It’s called an Osmo, it’s very little and cute (like Alfred), and I plugged it right into Alfred’s download port and crossed my fingers.
Ninety seconds of charging later, I plopped Alfred down on the floor and powered him up. Little Joe, lounging nearby, got up in preparation for taking Alfred’s lunch money again and strolled over to us. I wasn’t entirely convinced that the Osmo would work or I would have shooed Joe away, but I didn’t — I just hit Clean, and Alfred hummed a little tune and charged Little Joe. Little Joe: “Baby, baby, stick your head in gravy, wrap it up in bubbleg– OH SHIT!” Then he did his “Stop! Collaborate and ROOMBA!” dance move, ejected a tiny startle poo, and galloped out of the room.
Alfred, of course, dirt-detected the startle poo and headed straight for it, and I had to divert him in a way that did not involve picking up the still-warm blob with my hands…fast forward to a pair of flip-flops sailing into the garbage can while, in the foreground, Alfred snorfled contentedly on an extension cord and Little Joe “hid” “in” a dish of candy.
“Startle poo, startle poo, does whatever a startle poo does. Can it swing from a lamp? No it can’t, it’s a poo — look out! Here comes the startle pooooooo!”
Tags: feline fun times home 'n' garden movies retail
Oh man, that story made my day. And thank ye gods that my cats do not “startle poo”, although one of them does tend to leave a little nugget just outside the litterbox (it must get stuck in her fur).
So that’s what people mean when they say, “Man I nearly SHIT MYSELF back there.”
A ha.
I could never have a Roomba. My cat pitches a fit when the vacuum comes out once or twice a week to clear the dust that he himself is allergic to. But of course this is interpreted by the cat as something I do to primarily inconvenience and scare him. It is followed by him giving me the half hour “how could you do this to me?” look while cowering at the very top of a 7 ft bookcase.
Only recently did buing one of those gigantic cat condos stop him from doing that (because the bookcase collects this thing called paper dust, and the cat would be sniffly all of the next day – and a miserable cat is usually an insufferable one too). Anyway, if I had a Roomba, the cat would never leave his cat condo. Ever. As it is, it already takes some convincing sometimes.
OMG, that is so GREAT. I want a Roomba just so it can f–k with my cats. My cat Fil (short for Filbert, cause he’s a nut) gets all jacked up when I dry mop, for chrissakes. He charges the mop, feints, backs up, then LEAPS upon it – then I drive him around the room on it. He always smells like Endust after that, and his undercarriage has to be brushed cause he’s collected a bunch of dead spiders and Other Cat Hair. Anyway, I love your cat stories.
I laughed so hard at this entry — having caught The Four Seasons on On-Demand recently, the pathetic photographer is fresh in my mind — because these little essayettes (the two pagers on the old TN.com) were and are and always will be my favorites. Thanks.
Ohhhhhh, that is excellent. Thank you for a laugh on a slow day at work (I mean at home, of course. When I am at work I am…working, every minute).
I strongly suspect this is the very first time ever, that the following sentence has been written:
“Then he did his “Stop! Collaborate and ROOMBA!” dance move, ejected a tiny startle poo, and galloped out of the room.”
A startle poo is pretty rare (thank God); he’s only done it a handful of times.
I actually prefer this to Hobey’s method of dealing with transportation stress, to wit: transforming into his superhero alter ego, Sheddicus Fartnado.
Oh god, startle poo! I feel like my vocabulary has been truly embiggened today. My boyfriend’s cat does one of those if you hug him too tight. The mantra around the house has now become, “Don’t squeeze Li’l Scratchy! He’s full of poo!”
Also, I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one who can’t get the Spider Pig song out of my head.
Hee! I simply adore your cat and roomba stories. I’m going to be chuckling all day. :)
Thank you, THANK YOU for introducing “startle poo” into my vocabulary. Hee!
My cat does the Sheddicus (minus the Fartnado) when she’s frightened, as evidenced by the swirling cloud of cat hair she leaves in her wake. It seriously takes about 45 minutes for all the hair to settle on the floor. Gross.
But at least it’s not startle poo.
Thanks. Thanks a lot. I can’t stop singing “startle poo” now. I am SO glad that I, personally, do not have a startle poo problem! Can you imagine if this happened to people? I would never work in a cubicle again!
Damn! Girl’s trying to eat lunch around here! I nearly had fried rice come out my nose when I read “Sheddicus Fartnado.”
My cat’s startle-jump amuses me every time (sometimes she jumps up and completely horizontally), although thank God she doesn’t startle-poo.
After all the buildup, I thought there would be grand excitement when I got a roomba. Instead, the shy one hides (but come, she hides from *me* too), the lazy one sleeps, and the curious one follows it around to supervise. I’d complain that my cats are less entertaining that Sars’…but when I consider the lack of collateral property damage, I think I’ll stick with what I’ve got.
Has Roomba paid you any commission yet? Because they should.
OMG, I love this story so much!
I also have cats (3!) and a Roomba. They were terrified of it at first, now they torment it. I’ll hear the grindy noise the Roomba makes & go to remove it from whatever cord it’s tangled in, but no…it’s the big guy, a 22-lb Maine Coon, SITTING ON THE ROOMBA all “heehee” & bright-eyed & switchy-tailed. I’ve seen all three work as a pack to trap the Roomba in a triangle, letting it rebound off thier paws, til it gives its little despairing “I’m STUCK!” beeps.
Best cat toy ever!
Ok this isn’t a *total* non-sequitur, but it is tangential.
I recently acquired a grooming tool called the FURminator. I was skeptical at first, because of it’s seemingly asinine claim that it reduces shedding by 90%. Also, it’s $40 for the SMALL size, so it’s a bit cost-prohibitive for a gimmick.
I finally decided to try it after being reassured by the people at Petco (where the pets go!) that I would be able to return it with original packaging and a receipt if I didn’t love it. Yes, even after I had tried it, I would be permitted to return it!
Well, I *do* love it. I am shocked at how much hair was removed, as the FURminator gets the undercoat. Think giant snowy tumbleweeds rolling swiftly across the desert landscape of my dining room floor.
I’ll admit to having brushed a bit overzealously the first time. My poor white cats now have a slightly pink tinge to them because their skin is showing through their thinned fur.
The results, though, go beyond mere collection of copious amounts of excess fur. My cats are professional shedders. They spend their days shedding and then when we come home at night, they shed some more. The carpets and furniture are coated in fur. The ceiling fan has fur on it (somehow!). The placemats and table runners have fur. We don’t have dust bunnies – we have FUR bunnies. The lint trap in the dryer catches more fur than lint. These two are SERIOUS shedders. We’ve had to turn them away from snuggles and cuddles because we knew we’d be covered in fur instantly.
Now? Not a problem. I snuggled between BOTH white cats last night while wearing dark clothes and when I changed into my pyjamas, I had shed more of MY hair on my clothes than they had!
I just wanted to suggest this to you, in case you hadn’t heard of it. It might help Alfred avoid congestion. ;)
Hee. (I can’t get a loop of “Startle Poo! Startle Poo!” to the tune of the Spider Man theme song out of my head.)
People say this, but I never believed it until I got a Roomba of my own … they go after the cats on purpose. They really do. I don’t buy the whole “creating a pattern that maximizes cleaning efficiency” shpeal, it *knows* where the cats are and goes for them. Fortunately our cats have learned to monitor it’s activities from a high place, and they actually prefer Roomba to a regular vacuume so it works well for all of us.
I’m actually now visualizing both the leaping poo dance, and the Hobe going “…POOF!” And my day has improved ninefold.
Man, my cats Vito and Frankie would be so pissed if I got a Roomba. I’m going to have to start saving up. :)
I LOVE your cat stories. But I really need to learn to not read them at work. A normal reading of your story while at work usually entails a lot of me breathing very hard and fast, trying to keep from laughing out loud…a snort or five, from the breathing very hard and fast…turning beat red from from the embarressment of snorting…trying to cover up my breathing and snorting with a sniffle or two because i’m obviously not laughing, but actually coming down with a cold…minimizing the screen when people look at me when like i have ten heads…then repeating the process nine or ten times to get through the entire essay.
it’s great.
I was pretty sure I knew where this was going as soon as you told us about the startle poo, but that didn’t make it any less funny.
Poor Joe.
I know this is a cat thread, but my dog, Tink (not short for Tinkerbell, thank you very much), drops what I have come to call a “fear log” each and every time she must enter the vet’s office. It’s terribly shameful, as a pet owner, to bring such an ill mannered animal out in public and it matters not when she last shat. Seems there’s always enough poo left in there to eject the fear log for our benefit.
Vanilla Ice and Spider Pig in the same story??
Best. Roomba. Essay. Ever.
Thanks for the laugh. It was much needed, and very satisfying.
Oh, the church giggles, they won’t stop.
‘Startle Poo.’ Hee.
Thank you Sars.
::sigh:: I lurved The Four Season back in the day. I went to see it with my mom and sat there mortified during the scene where Carol Burnett and Alan Alda listen to Len Cariou and Bess Armstrong have sex. I coveted Bess’s wardrobe too — prairie skirts and corduroy blazers!
And I need a Roomba. My cat is much too complacent.
That? Was hilarious. My colleagues are not amused (only because I refuse to share), but I cannot seem to gather myself, and may have to go home early. Vanilla Ice and Startle Poo? Forget it.
I’m totally naming a band “Little Joe and the Startle Poos”.
Hee, “startle poo”!
I, too, have a Roomba and his name is Bob. So, Sars, you aren’t the only one who has given a human personality to your robot vacuum. Bob is obsessed with, and scares the crap out of, my 60 pound dog. The first time I used him, he made a beeline for the dog and I spent the next ten minutes dying of laughter as she ran around the house and Bob followed her. I don’t know how, but he just -knows- where she is.
It’s a happy day when there’s a Roomba update on Sars’ site.
I am presently fostering 3 tiny husky-mix puppies who came out of a shelter all messed up and undersocialized. After a month, they’re better now… and I am SO GLAD, because Zephyr, the scarediest one of them all, would also shit himself in fear at certain moments (usually when my husband picked him up). We called this a “panic poop.” A very close cousin, I imagine, to the startle poo.
I am having a tough time envisioning the “collaborate and Roomba” dance move, although thanks SO MUCH for getting that song stuck in my head. I used to know every word… ahh, eighth grade. Anyway, on Little Joe’s extended startle remix version, I really think we need photographs. Perhaps video. Yes, that is what I think.
I’m dying over here… I love the Roomba/Cat stories.
My friend’s Great Dane is plagued by startle poo, or “I am very tense about the mailman” poo. We’ve taken to calling her Oopsie Poopsie. Normally, I don’t tell this story, but I feel that y’all will relate.
OMG that was the highlight of my week! Praise god my cat does not startle poo, although one of my cats used to, er, ‘skunk’ you if she was upset.
“Startle poo.” Fabulous.
You must absolutely keep any sort of vacuuming device away from any type of cat poo. Did I spend an unpleasant hour cleaning out my upright vacuum with q-tips after I accidentally tried to suck up some hidden mushy cat poo? Yes, yes I did. Eww.
Personally, I love The Four Seasons and think it’s very underrated, as it is an amazing piece of ensemble acting and all involved were pretty much at the top of their form. (Also, the conceit of doing a ‘year in the life’ based on the Vivaldi piece was toedully kewl; although I think at the time Alda got a lot of shit that it was twee, from people who wish they thought of it first).
I especially like the fact that the young girlfriend (Bess Armstrong) is portrayed in a very sympathetic light, as opposed to The Brazen Hussy Who Steals The Husband. Because she didn’t — the film should be required viewing for a certain category of ex-wives and friends of same. You know who I mean: the ones who blame the girlfriend for the divorce. The girlfriend the ex started to date MONTHS after said divorce was final. Yeah, whatever, sister. Go back to your aubergines.
Cats? Have none. Nor a Roomba. So, erm, just really all about sharing my love for one of the best “She’s pregnant” reveals of all time.
As you were.
Hee! I really need to stop reading TN at work. I managed to keep the silent cackling more or less (well, less, but…) under control until I revisited The Love Song of J. Alfred Proomba, at which point I completely lost my shit and had to hide under my desk with tears streaming down my face until I could breathe again. Seriously, that is without question the funniest thing I have ever read IN MY LIFE. Also, “startle poo.” Awesome. I love the Roomba vs. cats stories.
Oh, man, what a great story. But I admit I found myself worried that you might have had to use your brand-new white and black flip-flops as a poo scoop. That would make me so sad, after all the effort you went to to find a pair. Please! Reassure me!
Not to worry, it was a semi-old pair from the dollar store. But I really liked that pair, it was squishy and comfy. And: poo-y, so it had to go.
The thing I love most about these essayettes (other than the humor) is the fact that Sars is almost guaranteed to respond in the comments, usually with something equally enjoyable (Sheddicus Fartnado).
Sars, you have to keep posting about your cats and/or the Roomba- I have laughed so hard my stomach muscles ache, and I won’t have to do any sit-ups for a week!
LOVE the Roomba/Cats essays. After reading the original cats + Roomba essay, my husband and I were inspired to try our luck with the Roomba. Needless to say, our cats weren’t exactly thrilled with our choice. :D
Heh – startle poo. My mom recently bought me a Scooba (the Roomba’s wet-vac cousin), and I have to say there is nothing more hilarious than watching that thing bear down on my dog when he’s trying to eat. Take a bite, turn and look nervously behind, take a bite, angle body away from Scooba while continuing to eat, calculate how long eating can continue before Scooba strikes…..
Poor Bunsen – he’ll have to learn to live with it, as this thing does a pretty awesome job on hardwood floors. It picks up a surprisingly (in both good and bad senses) large amount of scunge off the floor.
Gahdammit …I had *just* gotten the Spider Pig song out of my head, too, after three freakin’ weeks … and now Homer has been singing “Startle Poo” over and over and over for the last 20 minutes.
But it was an awesome story. :) Thanks.
My deeply weird, 20lb. spaniel-poodle (or “spoodle”) is so cat-like in so many ways that I have already spent a significant amount of time pondering where she might have picked up such a broad repertoire of un-dog-like behaviour, since her exposure to actual cats has been slim to nil.
At 3 years old, Abby cuddles up to people’s legs in a cattish manner, curls up on the back of the couch behind your head like a cat would, avoids expending excess energy wherever possible ( . . . ), and has this completely spoiled-brat, sucky, smarmy, self-centred, love-hate attitude when it comes to sharing living space with my husband and me. I think perhaps you can see where I’m going with this.
Now I find out that the Roomba thing is yet another example of this cross-species behavioural deviance, and I’m . . . just deflated, really. I guess the gods are trying to tell me I’m really more of a cat person.
Abby will run from Roomba if she suspects him of aggressive tendencies — but should his behaviour take a sudden turn for the submissive, she will spin on a dime, squat low, bark (NOT meow, and thank Jebus for minor miracles) sharply and repeatedly, then attack.
Dude. My spoodle is more like . . . a catoodle. Or a spoocatoodle. Or something.
Hey, are cats also commonly known to run and hide in the furthest possible corner of the basement when the upright comes out once a week for a deep-clean? And then cower there, looking betrayed, until you come down and apologize/reason with them for 20 minutes, insisting that the vacuuming HAD to be done, and anyway you’re totally telling the truth this time — the vacuum has now been put away, and no, this is not at all like the time you only *pretended* the vacuum was put away because you thought you could forge some sort of feline-Dyson bond through your ingenious human trickery, and perhaps finally be done with this trembling-leaf-bid-for-sympathy silliness forever?
Because no matter how many times I vacuum the house without incident, it seems my trusty Dyson will forever be eyed with the sort of fierce mistrust normally reserved for grey squirrels and suspected terrorists.
Thank you Sars, As a previous poster said, you really should be getting a kickback of some sort from iRobot. Everyone i know who is even thinking about buying a Roomba gets an email with a link to J. Alfred’s debut on Tomatonation. I can’t count how many times i’ve read that one and it ALWAYS cracks me up.
We finally bought a Roomba ourselves a few months ago. Around Christmastime i read an article about “hot gadgets” and it included an interview with folks from iRobot who mentioned that it was extremely common for owners to name their Roomba (most popular name — Rosie, from the Jetsons). Of course, we named ours. In a geeky online game i like to play there is a character named the Ninja Pirate Zombie Robot. I, of course, am now the proud owner of what i believe to be the world’s first Ninja Pirate Zombie Roomba, a.k.a. Mr. Nipzer.
I have no pets, but i have a 3 year old. I also have video evidence of said 3 year old running around the room shouting “hi mr. nipzer!” and “come back mr. nipzer!” (when mr. nipzer momentarily disappears under the couch) and “EEEEEEE!” (when he reappears and heads in her direction). Highly amusing. Oh, and the cleaning part is nice, too.
HA! Thankfully, we do not have the startle poo around here, but we do have the fierce anger poo. Which usually happens in the car. So then you’re stuck riding in the car with the anger poo and one cat’s upset because he can smell the anger poo and the anger poo creator is even MORE upset because she has to ride with anger poo in her carrier. So then they both get carsick and…TMI.
This is why we don’t take many car trips anymore.
That story just totally made my morning…thanks!
I was laughing sufficiently hard that my partner and my cat both came to investigate and ensure I was OK.
Partner saw “Tomato Nation” and heard me gasp “cats”, and wandered away shaking his head. The cat is now sitting beside me alternately purring anxiously and licking my foot.
I laughed so hard I couldn’t eat breakfast.
I got a Roomba (which has since died of something mysterious.) It didn’t save me any time at all because I followed it around the house watching it. Very entertaining. I’m considering getting the new model which has been trained to deal with electrical cords and area rugs.
The Scooba is great, too. I can’t remember the last time I had to mop the kitchen with a real mop.
I just wanted to second Marcy’s post – the Furminator is fabulous. One of my cats is a professional shedder, and the Furminator actually takes a TON of hair off … naturally he immediately begins shedding again, but the Furminator makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something.
Anyway, I’ve given it to other cat owners, and they’ve loved it too. (No, I don’t own stock in Petco. :))
And I LOVE your cat stories!
That was fantastic. Thanks.
My horse has been known to make a startle poo from time to time… think on THAT for a second. On the plus side, it has only ever happened in places where there are no Roombas to immediately lock in on it. On the minus side, Shaquille O’Neal’s own flip-flops wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
And like the others, thanks also for putting the “startle poo” song in my head.
Equines practically patented the startle poo. I never found horse pies that offensive — horses are vegetarians, so it wasn’t that stinky — but getting strafed with a startle poo when you’re picking out a hind hoof is not a good time. Like, that crow has been sitting on the fence for AN HOUR, dude — NOW you decide to freak out and drop a deuce on my shoulder? Uh uh, not cool (tm Bring It On).
I just got an email about the new model, so if anyone gets it, please report back. Alfred is an omniphage and I had to stop him twice this morning to remove cords. Well, once for a cord. Once for the size-nine wedge sandal he was dragging behind him like a child with a stuffed animal.