Dawn decided that we would bathe all of the cats today. One of them got fleas two weeks ago. `I'm sick and tired of cat baths. I'm sick of fleas and ticks and the small flying dragons that come out of the woods at night to buzz past my head and generally terrify my family. Did I mention that I'm also sick of bathing cats? Because I am.
I'm not saying that I hate my cats. I just hate the idea of willfully closing myself in a tiny room with a slick and vicious screaming animal. Call me a pansy but I like my skin without jagged rips or holes.
I've been to the emergency room once this summer when Jasper took a hold of my middle finger and shook it like a pit bull. His top fang sliced through the top of my finger while the bottom fang went into the knuckle. I don't mean he simply bit my knuckle. I'm talking about, "Ooooooh, Dawn......ahhhhh..... ummmm.......crap honey we gotta go to the emergency room."
"Why?"
I stuck my hand out and the look on her face said, "You rinse that sucker off and I'll get the car keys."
That was last week. I just finished my antibiotics this morning.
We started with the kittens. So Dawn rounded them up and stuck all of them in the bathroom. I plucked kittens off the floor one at a time and took care of business. They aren't so bad as long as you clip their nails regularly.
When the kittens were finished Dawn brought the adults in one by one. That's when the horror began.
Jasper 16 lbs of lovin' when dry. All hate and anger when wet. |
"Mike shut up. I'm trying to but he's heavy. Jasper, settle down or I'm gonna have to throw you."
"Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooowwwweeeeeewwwwaaaaaaaaaooooooowwwwwwwwww!" Jasper sounds like a terrified lunch whistle that's going through puberty.
"Woman if you throw that cat at me we are getting a divorce. Just put him down. There, now get the cup and get his back and neck. I'll hold his front end still......JASPER STOP FIGHTING."
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewww"
"Honey is that water too warm? Don't you think he wants it a little coo........"
"WASH THE CAT DAWN! WASH THE CAT DAWN! FOCUS ON THE CAT DAWN!"
"Don't yell at me!"
"Well I'm holding a thermonuclear warhead in my bare hands and you are worried about the water temp. If this cat goes super-critical I'm holding you responsible."
"OK I'm washing him, now shut up because you're making everyone nervous."
So we washed the remaining adult cats in much the same way. Until we got to Chloe.
Let me tell you a bit about Chloe. Chloe does not like kittens, she despises baths, and while she does love to be near me, all bets are off when she hears water running. She is by far the smallest cat we have and strangely she is easily the most violent about bath time. The sound she makes when she touches water is powerful and terrifying enough to shut down nerve centers in the human body. I actually seize up a little when she lets loose with the bad screams.
Dawn and I differ when it comes to bathing Chloe. I think she should be done first because when she hears the water running she becomes nervous. Why make her wait and listen to 6 other cats scream and howl and build up all that tension? At least that's how I see it. Dawn on the other hand likes to do
Chloe last. So that just means Chloe is always done last.
Chloe Daddy's girl. AKA Five Pounds of Fury. |
This time Dawn wanted to take point on washing her. I should have known that everything was going to go to hell when Dawn picked her up a second time to stick her under the running water I was using to rinse the tub. The only thing Chloe hates more than water is running water. Dawn touched Chloe, Chloe touched the running water and then Chloe's fangs touched Dawns hand. She bit her in the soft spot between the thumb and index finger and held on. I watched her pull her hand back with Chloe still attached. She had to pry Chloes mouth open with her free hand. Chloe actually lunged a second time but missed because Dawn darted out of the way. I simply stood there aghast and wide eyed.
"SHE GOT ME! MIKE SHE GOT ME! OOOOOOOOO MAN SHE GOT ME!"
She held out her hand. I saw it and said, "Rinse that sucker off and I'll get the car keys."
"No, she didn't get me deep. It just looks worse than it is because of all the bloody holes. Just get me some bleach. I'll be ok......wow......I'm getting dizzy!"
"Yeah, you nearly turned us both into homicide statistics. Now lets get you to the emergency room to have it looked at. Any time you can describe an injury as a 'bloody hole' then I think it warrants professional care."
"Wooooo! I'm dizzy."
"Yeah that's called shock. Here's the bleach."
"Pour it on and get me a chair." I poured some bleach on her hand and let her fiddle with it under the running water. It turned out that she was right. The damage was far less than it could have been.
"See honey! It's not bad at all, I'm just gonna soak it for a minute and catch my breath. Feels good to have all the cats washed doesn't it?" She smiled from ear to ear then tipped forward to put her head between her knees. I stood next to her and gently rubbed her back and told her how brave she was.
You can bet we will be washing Chloe first next time. If we can catch her. I'm so sick of cat baths.
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