WWE: Mom vs. Cat

While in general cats do a pretty good job bathing themselves, occasionally Kit Kat needs a little extra bath. Let me just say that this is not something that either she nor I look forward to. It is pretty much similar to a wrestling match.

If you have ever washed a cat you know that you have to come prepared. Once you enter the ring there is no leaving. If you forget something, you are down for the count. So before I start the process I make sure that I have all the necessary tools: towels, shampoo, cup for rinsing, long sleeve shirt (to minimize scratches), warm water, and two cups of coffee to give me an "edge".

As soon as I pick up Kit Kat and start heading towards the sink she starts to tense. She knows that the match is on and she begins to contort her body towards me to dig her claws in an effort to get away. I learned the hard way about this little trick. Both hands are clamped gently but firmly on her front and rear legs. She twists and yowls, but she doesn't escape OR claw me.

As soon as she starts yowling the boys come running to see what is wrong. I tell them that they can stand outside the "ring", but absolutely no crossing.... no matter what they see or hear.

What happens next is a two minutes cross between Kung-Fu, Taekwon Do and every Mom skill I have ever learned. Once a cat is wet, all bets are off. Add shampoo and they are a slippery ball of scratching clawing nightmare. Do they care that you have filled the sink with a few inches of pleasantly warm water so they won't get chilled? Do they care that you are using your "soothing" voice? No, you have instantly become the enemy and they will do nothing short of clawing every inch of your skin and eyeballs out to get away from that water. After rinsing thoroughly, comes the HARD part. Oh, you thought washing was the hard part. Ha!

Now, we have to get that cat out of the sink without her attaching herself to one of your body parts. At this point I am running out of energy and she is just getting her temper going. After the water drains, I wipe off as much water as possible and throw a towel around her and close her legs in before she has a chance to swirl around. Those eyes are flashing at me with a look of death.

Don't laugh, but at this point I go sit in the rocking chair and rock her to calm her down while rubbing her dry through the towel. When she is a little calmer, I switch towels and do the process all over again.

For now, Kit Kat smells a lot better and maybe in a few days she will quit plotting my death.