I must say that starting the day by giving your cat a bath is invigorating. Hearing his cat screams and having him kick your ass…there’s nothing like it. Really…there’s nothing that can even come close.
Now, I am not a masochist. However, the cat had developed an odor. He actually had a green cloud around him, and flies were dropping dead around him. he could’ve given someone a fantastic case of stinkpalm if he so chose. I think it has something to do with his prescription food, but I will spare you the details. Suffice it to say, today was the day. Before I got ready for work, I decided that the bath was absolutely necessary. Silly me, I also thought I could handle the bath by myself. Heeheehee…after I developed a puncture wound that would make Dracula swoon, I decided to call for back-up. G got to drop the beast back into the tub, while I quickly closed the shower door. (this would be the one time in my entire life that I thought shower doors were a good thing) I caught my breath, whilst Ziggie shrieked and tried to conquer the shower door. We decided a plan of attack, and G held the tiny beast, while I washed. It was hard, it was smelly, the cat was pissed. But, he is much cleaner, and may forgive us sometime this century.
The next part of our plan involves combing and clipping his butt-hair. Yeah, that should be fun.
Note to self: When a ten pound cat battles a one-hundred-mumble-mumble pound woman, the cat will always win.