Bloodless Cat-Bathing (anonymous source)
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:
1.
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.)
2.
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-sleeved flak jacket.
3.
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.
4.
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.)
5.
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.
6.
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.)
7.
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.