About my bass bag
I love my bass bag. It's a Mooradian that Jeff threw into the deal when I bought my bass from him.
When we brought our youngest daughter home from the hospital last year, my cat was injured fighting for winter territory outside. He was hiding for days, and didn't move very much. I figured he was just jealous of the new baby ("What! Another One! Will you Please Stop with the babies!" or some feline-equivalent line of thought . . .) because I didn't notice his injury.
During that time, he made a nest in my bass bag and peed all over it.
I do not get the chance to gig often - I'm a full time teacher with a bunch of babies at home. So, it was at least a week before I put the bag on the bass to go to a rehearsal and went "What the &*^% is that smell?
IN the meantime, I had noticed my cat's injury, and he was treated for an infection with a high fever.
The cat is fine now.
The bag still stinks a little.
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