- Joined
- Feb 19, 2001
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- 34,872
- Purraise
- 77
As soon as Bacardi hears the squeak of the linen closet open, she races to the bathroom door. I am busy gathering items needed for my shower, and she is busy pacing back and forth determined not to miss any of the fun she has discovered in that tiny room.
I am mindful of her presence, taking care not to step on her tail or paws. The linen closet is just adjacent to our small bathroom and her anxious meows fill the hallway.
Being a cat-owner of multiple cats, you give up many luxuries. You give up having fancy furniture, and settle for Salvation Army cast-offs that are comfortable but not expensive. That way, when it comes to replacing a sofa because of cat claws that have dug into the sides of it, looking for treasure I suppose, you don't gasp in horror and think about money wasted. You also give up the right to leave the home on a leisurely vacation, unless you are fortunate enough to find someone who wishes to help feed all your animals in your absence. As for privacy? What is that? There is always the battle for the bathroom going on. If I do manage to sneak into the bathroom for personal hygiene and shut the door, not two minutes later I have a band of kitties caterwauling demanding to be let in. They love the fact that when I am.......well......let's just say occupied, that I am so accessible at just the right height to scratch their butts, rub their chins and my lap is so right there, and it is not going anywhere and they know it! They tolerate the bathroom sink, love to chase the water down the drain, sit on our shoulders when we are leaned over to brush our teeth, help us empty out the trash can and they love to help us install a new roll of toilet paper, as they get the old empty spool to chase about. But, when the shower gets turned on, they all turn horrified thinking "(BATH!) and scatter to the four-winds. That is, all of them but Bacardi.
Bacardi, like her brothers and sisters is a Siamese Mix and God gave her a wonderful raccoon-like mask to show off to the world. I am firmly convinced that she once was a raccoon, because she uses her paws just like a coon does to grab her food, or to grab my hands when I try to pill her. She loves water, especially the shower. She has learned that her brothers and sisters do not share her enthusiasm, so she has her human all to herself at least once, sometimes twice a day.
So there she is, anxiously pacing waiting for her turn in the water playground. With all my items gathered, I open the door and in we go. I am always amazed that with the shower going full force, and the door shut, that she doesn't revert to her feral ways and become a screaming maniac clawing her way out of her prison. I place the towels down on the rim of the sink, and she jumps right on top of them and settles down immediately.
The water is now running full force, and I am behind the curtain and she can no longer see me. She stands up and snakes her lean body up and on top of the shower railing. Now, she is my furry peeping feline watching me carefully as I do my shower thing.
Sometimes, instead of being a rail cat, she joins me inside the shower and doesn't mind that the spray hits her. (But she hates a bath?) She chases the small beads of water, and darts in and out of my feet playing with the drain water. I am careful to re-direct the spray to the front wall of the stall when she is my showermate.
After I am finished, she runs in circles around the drain, mimicking the way the water vanishes. Then, she jumps up on the sink and shakes herself, much like a dog does and waits for me to towel her dry- purring all the while.
I have had hundreds of cats that enjoy the bathroom, but she is the first cat I have had that takes it to this extreme. Whether she just enjoys being mine for a few minutes in the day with no interruption, or whether she is really a raccoon in kitty clothing, I don't know. What I do know is that showering with this friend always lights up my day, and it is enough enjoyment, that I will never fix that squeaky hinge on the linen closet door.
I am mindful of her presence, taking care not to step on her tail or paws. The linen closet is just adjacent to our small bathroom and her anxious meows fill the hallway.
Being a cat-owner of multiple cats, you give up many luxuries. You give up having fancy furniture, and settle for Salvation Army cast-offs that are comfortable but not expensive. That way, when it comes to replacing a sofa because of cat claws that have dug into the sides of it, looking for treasure I suppose, you don't gasp in horror and think about money wasted. You also give up the right to leave the home on a leisurely vacation, unless you are fortunate enough to find someone who wishes to help feed all your animals in your absence. As for privacy? What is that? There is always the battle for the bathroom going on. If I do manage to sneak into the bathroom for personal hygiene and shut the door, not two minutes later I have a band of kitties caterwauling demanding to be let in. They love the fact that when I am.......well......let's just say occupied, that I am so accessible at just the right height to scratch their butts, rub their chins and my lap is so right there, and it is not going anywhere and they know it! They tolerate the bathroom sink, love to chase the water down the drain, sit on our shoulders when we are leaned over to brush our teeth, help us empty out the trash can and they love to help us install a new roll of toilet paper, as they get the old empty spool to chase about. But, when the shower gets turned on, they all turn horrified thinking "(BATH!) and scatter to the four-winds. That is, all of them but Bacardi.
Bacardi, like her brothers and sisters is a Siamese Mix and God gave her a wonderful raccoon-like mask to show off to the world. I am firmly convinced that she once was a raccoon, because she uses her paws just like a coon does to grab her food, or to grab my hands when I try to pill her. She loves water, especially the shower. She has learned that her brothers and sisters do not share her enthusiasm, so she has her human all to herself at least once, sometimes twice a day.
So there she is, anxiously pacing waiting for her turn in the water playground. With all my items gathered, I open the door and in we go. I am always amazed that with the shower going full force, and the door shut, that she doesn't revert to her feral ways and become a screaming maniac clawing her way out of her prison. I place the towels down on the rim of the sink, and she jumps right on top of them and settles down immediately.
The water is now running full force, and I am behind the curtain and she can no longer see me. She stands up and snakes her lean body up and on top of the shower railing. Now, she is my furry peeping feline watching me carefully as I do my shower thing.
Sometimes, instead of being a rail cat, she joins me inside the shower and doesn't mind that the spray hits her. (But she hates a bath?) She chases the small beads of water, and darts in and out of my feet playing with the drain water. I am careful to re-direct the spray to the front wall of the stall when she is my showermate.
After I am finished, she runs in circles around the drain, mimicking the way the water vanishes. Then, she jumps up on the sink and shakes herself, much like a dog does and waits for me to towel her dry- purring all the while.
I have had hundreds of cats that enjoy the bathroom, but she is the first cat I have had that takes it to this extreme. Whether she just enjoys being mine for a few minutes in the day with no interruption, or whether she is really a raccoon in kitty clothing, I don't know. What I do know is that showering with this friend always lights up my day, and it is enough enjoyment, that I will never fix that squeaky hinge on the linen closet door.
