Birch likes to keep me* company when I'm in the bathtub.
Or maybe "keep me company" isn't quite right...it seems more likely that he's baffled that anyone would choose to get wet on purpose, and the concept is so grotesque to him that he can't look away. At any rate, when I'm in the bathtub he has a tendency to come up to the edge and stare at it with trepidation...
...And then lightly pat the water with his paw as if checking to make sure it's really there and not just a mirage induced by some bad kibble...
...And then recoil as if it bit him.
...Usually several times in a row.
When he gets tired of ascertaining whether the bathtub is in fact filled with water, he'll jump up on the edge and pace fretfully back and forth, pausing frequently to stare into my face and make sure I'm okay.
|"Just say the word and I'll go get help!"|
Sometimes, he'll actually calm down enough to lounge on the edge of the bathtub for a bit. On at least two occasions, his tail has fallen in and he just sat there oblivious, swishing it back and forth through the water. I don't know how he didn't notice his gaffe. My bathwater is hot enough to boil cabbage in.
The last time he accidentally dunked his tail, the realization did hit him eventually...all at once. He jumped about a foot in the air and then tore out of the room like a maniac. Naturally, he managed to slash his soaking wet tail across my face in the process. Why wouldn't he?
For the next hour or so, his tail had a visible high tide line on it. On one side of the line, a luxuriant floofy column of awesomeness; on the other side, a gross, scrawny little whip made of gristle and vertebrae. He kept thrashing it around. It's unclear whether he was trying to air-dry it or he was just plain pissed off. I'm guessing both.
It never stops surprising me how tiny and sinewy cats really are, underneath their fur. Maybe that's the real reason cats hate getting wet - it's not because it feels gross to them, it's because they know that without proper fur coverage they look like ugly little mutants.
Uh...no offense, Birchy. Wuv you!
*Only me. Never The Boy - at least not since The Boy tried to pull Birch in with him. Never let anyone tell you that animals have short memories.
Do you live in Toronto? Then you totally need to swing by my stall at the Arts Market! I've just started selling necklaces and magnets with teeny-tiny prints of my paintings on them. They are vibrant and beautiful and will add a glorious finishing touch to your sternum and/or refrigerator.