My mom sent me this by email. I am supposed to be on my way to work already but I had to post this for yall to laugh your bottoms off!!!!
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:
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.)
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.
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.
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.)
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.
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.)
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 you 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 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!
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:
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.)
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.
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.
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.)
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.
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.)
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 you 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 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!
