A Very Soggy Battle

                                                               
I grab a towel and the cat shampoo before trotting into the laundry. It is bath day. That means that I wash the cats while trying not to get wet myself.

I fill the sink with warm water and march off to find my first victim.

"Meow," Jenny says as I scoop her up from the floor.

I grin evilly and dump her into the sink.

"I don't understand what is going on!" Jenny wails.

I tip cups of water all over her back, completely ignoring her complaints.

"STOP," Jenny screams as I rub shampoo into her fur.

I smile as I rinse the shampoo out from her fur. Nearly done.

"Where is my water going?" Jenny asks as I pull the plug out from the sink. I then haul the cat out of the bath and onto the closed washing machine.

"Stop, that tickles!" Jenny squeals as I rub the towel up and down her back.

"First cat done," I say, dumping Jenny on the floor.

I fill the sink again before walking off to find the next cat.

 Sammy is always easy to find. He has two regular hiding spots. Behind the settee or Mum's armchair. I open Mum's bedroom door and head to her chair. There he is, cowering behind it. "Got you," I say, pulling him out.

We march over to the operating room. "In you go," I say gently lowering him into the sink.

"Help!" Sammy screams and grabs the edge of the sink with his claws.

"Get back in there!" I shout, unlatching his claws from the sink.

Sammy reaches his claws out for the next nearest thing. They sink into the towel I had put on top of the washing-machine.

"Stop! Stop!" I cry as he claws his way out of the sink.

Sammy smiles he is winning the battle. With an extra spurt of energy I pull him back down.

"Why are you so mean?" Sammy asks.

Cup after cup of water gets thrown at him.

"Stop! I am dying," the wet animal screams.

I grab my next weapon. The shampoo bottle.

"That stuff smells," Sammy moans as I squirt the shampoo all over him.

A few minutes the animal is clean. I lift him out of the sink and onto the washing-machine. I smile.What a good job I have done. But Sammy isn't giving up.

"OUCH!" I scream as Sammy digs his claws into my chest. But there is no time to spend feeling sorry for myself while there is still one animal left standing.

I find Poppy sitting in Charlotte's wardrobe, looking as grumpy as ever.

"Why do you always bath us and make us smell of shampoo?" Poppy asks. "I way prefer my stink."

I wrinkle my nose at her statement and think of the horrible odour that usually follows her about.

"I way prefer this nice clean smell," I say, waving the cat shampoo bottle in front of her.

Finally the cat is shampooed, rinsed and rubbed sort of dry.

I am done!

When I look in the mirror though I discover that my victory has come with a price. On my neck is a cut from Sammy and my T-shirt is soaked. But the cats look worse than me. They are miserable, soggy balls of fur.

Have you ever bathed a cat?


Image: by onyx by paparutzi, (CC BY 2.0)