Don't Try This at Home

This is Bogart. Sometimes we let him in the fenced yard with us when we're out with the dogs. Today he found the little spot where the fake fireplace sticks out and there's a nice little dirt hidey-hole just the right size for a cat.

We heard him wailing (his preferred method of communication no matter the occassion) and realized he'd snuck outside and gotten left behind when we came in for lunch. I found his head sticking out of the hole, his white parts so dirty you could barely tell them from the gray.



I called him and he came as far as the stoop and started to give himself a bath. He'd shaken off a bit so the ridiculous dirt levels aren't really visible in the picture. I knew what had to be done.

My mission, should I choose to accept it... was to give Bogart a bath.

This is a cat that, at 5 months old, drew blood on two highly skilled veterinarians who were just trying to get him out of the cage. They emerged from the back, disheveled and bleeding, and asked if I could get him out seeing as how I worked there and he was my cat. I informed them he wouldn't behave any better for me and they said "look, we know you don't believe in it, and he's just supposed to get neutered today, but I'm sorry we're declawing your cat." To this day I am glad that I agreed to it.

He turns into Satan's lost pet when he goes to the vet, and has to get heavy doses of tranquilizers even if it's just to get weighed. His aggressive personality was apparent when he was two weeks old and attacking the teeny little syringe we were using to feed him. We sometimes wonder if it wasn't really an accident that his momma abandonded him.

Oh, and he weighs 20 pounds, much of which is solid muscle.

I carried him upstairs and he started to freak out. I turned on the water and he really started to freak out. I had originally planned to just lean over the tub like with the dogs, but it was clear there was nothing for it but to strip down and get in.

Meanwhile, Husband, expecting high comedy whatever the outcome, brought his lunch and the camera to the bathroom to bear witness.

He wailed and thrashed and yowled and wet mud was flinging all over me and the shower and out into the bathroom and I was laughing to hard I couldn't breathe. I started out trying to hold him with one arm and spray him...



but that didn't work so I ended up struggling to hold him with two hands while Husband did the honors.

I've never heard a cat make sounds like that. I seriously couldn't stop laughing, even though a little voice in my head was insistently screaming Husband is taking pictures and you're naked!!!

When it was over and I'd toweled him off I let go, expecting a little cat explosion of some kind. But in typical Bogart fashion he hopped out, plopped his fat ass down right next to the tub, gave me a dirty look and started grooming himself like nothing had happened.