Cat spa

The cats got baths today, after Dave wrinkled his nose over James and said, She stinks!" James howled and howled when she hit the water in the tub, not a happy kitty. But she was very good, didn't even try to climb over me to get out. I thought she'd object to my holding her under the faucet for a rinse, but that went fine. It took two big towels to blot her dry (she's a big cat), then I gave her to Dave to hold while Phoebe got her bath. Phoebe was not so good. She didn't howl, but she kept trying to grab hold of me and eventually managed to swarm up and over my shoulder, soaking my sweatshirt! Only one towel needed for Phoebe, she's so small. Both cats spent the rest of the day washing themselves in front of the wood stove.

All of our cats over the years needed a bath at one time or another. Some were good, some weren't. The best was Muffin. She was a grey & tan tortoiseshell cat that I adopted from the Richland Rider's Club stables, just before we moved back to the west side. She loved baths, and would stand in the sink and purr, then snuggle in the towel as I rubbed her dry.

I still remember the first time I gave Taffy a bath. He was the first cat that Dave & I got together, and our first orange cat. He loved to sit on the corner of the bathtub when I took my bath. One day, I scooped him up and dunked him. He was so good about it, just went back to his corner and started grooming himself. With his long hair, you couldn't see his bone structure until he was wet, and he was so funny-looking, all knobby bones. Dave got out a bath towel and rubbed Taffy until he was almost dry. Silly cat…  he came right back to his corner and kept me company!