::when cats cry::

as today is surely one of the last hot days in summer, the household celebrated the Bathing of the Cats at the close of the workday. It's also commonly known by felines as you want to WHAT? and no freakin' WAY are you out of your MIND were you raised by DOGS? ad infinitum.

Monty and Mango are a handsome pair of cats (pictured here). however, Mango is most commonly the one-who-smells-like-kitty-litter, whilst Monty is, simply, a vain and incessent bather. so, when one is washed, both are washed. i would hate for the bath to be perceived as a sort of punishment where one is singled out over the other.

as i filled the bath, Monty, surprisingly curious, looked over my shoulder from the adjoining toilet. i ventured downstairs for a large plastic cup to douse them with as the bathtub continued to fill with warm water. not missing a beat, he began to howl in realization. returning upstairs, though, i found we had an understanding: he did not run. being the easiest pick, he went first. calm, collected, he took it like the man he used to be. he was patient, uncomplaining, rarely squirming. normally he is quite a handful at the vet, but i'd like to think that going on seven years we have achieved a level in our relationship where he instinctively trusts me. and, mostly, only me. poor josh!

Mango proved to be incredibly difficult. i came for him and he KNEW and he was FREAKED OUT. into the freshly drawn bath and On With The Howling! and the Squirming! and the Knocking Cups And Shampoo And Scaring Myself More! Monty tried to comfort him with answered yowls from behind the closed door (would he attack me at the thought of some physical harm befalling his pal?). i swiftly caved in defeat. barely washed, i rinsed him off and drained the tub. Mango was simply Too Freaked Out. poor little guy. though, thankfully, i am convinced he actually is quite trim, despite that unruly long coat of his. wet cats are sad cats, but they are adorably cute.