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From: Kerry & Kalliope
Subject: Cat Bathing as a Martial Art
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 whisks 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 woman must face
reality; when she 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 you 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, a hockey face mask and a long-sleeve 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 Next.)
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 that 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
is -- for cats -- three latherings, so don't
expect too much.)v
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 now he smells a lot better.
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