Misc Jokes

How To Bathe A Cat

(Note: Jeffery LaCroix is a veterinarian with an office in
Wilmington. He writes a column for the Morning Star called
"From Paws to Tails."

Here is his response to a letter regarding bathing a cat:)

Dear Dr. LaCroix: I've heard that cats never have to be
bathed, and that they have some sort of special enzyme in
their saliva that keeps them clean. This doesn't sound
believable to me because there are definite "kitty" odors on
my couch and dirty cat paw prints on our white hearth. Is
this true about the saliva? If we do decide to give "Nice
Kitty" a bath, how do we do that? - NSP, Wilmington

Dear NSP: Fortunately for you, several years ago a client
gave me a written set of instructions about cat bathing
which I am privileged to share with you:

Cat Bathing As A Martial Art

A. 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.)

B. 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.

C. 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.)

D. 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.

E. 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.)

F. 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 with what you have
just been through. That's because by now the cat is
semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop
the drain plug with your 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 to 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.