Caffeine Girl

Starting the fourth decade of dyspeptic curmudgeonry.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Hate. But clean hate!

We gave Sammy a bath today. Whoo boy. Oh boy. Oh ick. That is the first time I've bathed a cat in many years, which reminds me of why you don't bathe cats. Because they hate. Sammy is now on meds three times a day, which means three times a day he freaks out and foams at the mouth, even though the meds are compounded with tuna. Mmmm, tuna! Smells like ick! So in the interest of not having our kitty smell like matted tuna, he got a bath.


HATE. I'm never coming out again.


Whoa! What the hell happened to you??


Shut up, Casper. I'm only coming out because it's lunch time.


I smell like baby powder. Still hate. Once you turn around I'll pop a squat...getting ready...

Now that I'm caught up on sleep, we have more to follow, including the Sammy saga, the Lilly hosting, and bridal shower goodness. Have a good week y'all...

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I can think of no sadder sight than a freshly-bathed cat. Poor things look like little drowned rats.

At least two of our cats could seriously use a bath, but I'm not up for the bloodshed. They're both predominantly-outdoor kitties, so I'm just waiting for the rainy season to start up again.

1:35 PM  
Blogger Petunia Press Books said...

Despite major flea infestation, we still have not given Love and Coco baths because of the expected aftermath. Love has a habit of storing up hatred for approximately 24 hours, then releases it in the form of attacking my ankles with his fangs and back claws while I sit, helpless, on the toilet seat. If I close the door to the bathroom, he knocks on it continuously until I have to open it to save my sanity. I can't win. He dominates.

1:21 PM  
Blogger Cara said...

I think it's fabulous that your attack cat is named Love.

2:51 PM  
Blogger Petunia Press Books said...

Scarily, it took you to point out this irony to me.

3:45 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home