For ages the family felines have been smelling just a bit ... well, gamey. It was time to make them clean and pretty again.
I decided to tackle the event logically. First, a bottle of waterless shampoo was lined up on the counter with a clean brush and a nice, fluffy towel, just in case the little darlings got chilled during the procedure. Nothing is too good for the furry children, you know.
Trouble, the smaller cat, was first. She likes to be brushed so this should go quickly and smoothly. Oh oh! One squirt of the shampoo and Trouble was on my shoulder and down my back like a flash. Dashing through the house like a animal possessed, she scooted under a chair in a spot only big enough for a flea to occupy. Tugging her first by a paw and then by the tail, she hissed and showed a side of her normally sweet self never seen before!
Ok, let her rest. Surely Migraine, aka Fat Cat, would be more cooperative. Located in her usual summer sleeping spot in the bathtub, she barely opened her eyes at me until she heard the shampoo bottle go squirt, squirt! Out of that tub with speed not seen since she was a kitten, she raced down the hall and around and around the family room, landing somewhere out of sight. Ah ha! There she was! For a cat who can barely jump from the floor into the bathtub, she was trying to sprout wings and land on top of the china cabinet!
Well, the little critters did get bathed - somewhat. Trouble has a clean and fluffy tail and Migraine has the prettiest, cleanest head you ever saw, but I smell like a wet cat.
I learned something today. Bathing cats is hard work and is not for the weak and aged. I think I'll go take a nap.