Epona's Way Pagan Pages     |   home
                                                  
Laughing Crow 3
CAT
      BATHING AS A MARTIAL ART
Courtesy of
Seshen! Please visit
website  for more great
humor!
http://home.att.net/~seshen
                            
      Some people say cats never have to be bathed. They say cats lick
      themselves clean.  They say cats have a special enzyme of some sort in
      their saliva that works like new, improved Wisk dislodging the dirt where
      it hides and whisking it away. I've spent most of my life believing this
      folklore. Like most blind believers,I've been able to discount all the
      facts to the contrary, the kitty odors that lurk in the corners of the
      garage and dirt smudges that cling to the throw rug by the fireplace.

      The time comes, however, when a man must face reality: when he must look
      squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary and
      announce:"This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in Juarez."
      When that day arrives at your house, as it has in mine, I have some advice
      you might consider as you place your feline friend under your arm and head
      for the bathtub:

      Know that although the cat has the advantage of quickness and lack of
      concern for human life, you have the advantage of strength. Capitalize on
      that advantage by selecting the battlefield. Don't try to bathe him in an
      open area where he can force you to chase him. Pick a very small bathroom.
      If your bathroom is more than four feet square, I recommend that you get
      in the tub with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were
      about to take a shower. (A simple shower curtain will not do. A berserk
      cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician
      can shift positions.)

      Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin
      from your body. Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to
      dress to protect yourself. I recommend canvas overalls tucked into
      high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet,
      hockey face mask, and a long-sleeved flak jacket. Prepare everything in
      advance. There is no time to go out for a towel when you have a cat
      digging a hole in your flak jacket.

      Draw the water.

      Make sure the bottle of kitty shampoo is inside the glass enclosure. Make
      sure the towel can be reached, even if you are lying on your back in the
      water.

      Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to
      simply carry him to his supper dish. (Cats will not usually notice your
      strange attire. They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule. If
      he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in a
      product testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)

      Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival. In a
      single liquid motion, shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure,
      slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water and squirt him with
      shampoo. You have begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life.

      Cats have no handles. Add the fact that he now has soapy fur, and the
      problem is radically compounded. Do not expect to hold on to him for more
      than two or three seconds at a time. When you have him, however, you must
      remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like crazy. He'll
      then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby rinsing himself
      off. (The national record for cats is three latherings, so don't expect
      too much.)

      Next, the cat must be dried. Novice cat bathers always assume this part
      will be the most difficult, for humans generally are worn out at this
      point, and the cat is just getting really determined. In fact, the drying
      is simple compared to what you have just been through. That's because by
      now the cat is semipermanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop
      the drain plug with your foot, reach for your towel and wait.
      (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your
      army helmet. If this happens, the best thing you can do is to shake him
      loose and to encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is
      drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the
      cat.

      In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from your leg. He
      will usually have nothing to say for about three weeks and will spend a
      lot of time sitting with his back to you. He might even become
      psychoceramic and develop the fixed stare of a plaster figurine. You will
      be tempted to assume he is angry. This isn't usually the case. As a rule
      he is simply plotting ways to get through your defenses and
      injure you for life the next time you decide to give him a bath.

      But at least for now, he smells a lot better.

Return to
The Laughing Crow
Main Page
Home