Cat Bath

For some time, Shamus had been telling me that the cat needed a bath.  I told him it could not be done.  Little did I know.

The other evening I looked out the window, and saw him gently but firmly petting the cat, keeping it where it was with one hand, and pouring handfuls of water on it with the other.  When he poured the water over it, it would strain and try to get away, but he calmly and firmly petted it down so that it would give up and stay.

A few minutes later I caught Pumpkin trying to smuggle the family hairbrushes outside. “Oh no, you don’t,” I said, interrupting his mission, “Those are for people only.”

He put the brushes away and ended up bringing out an old toothbrush from the stash we keep for cleaning.  A few minutes later he walked past again, this time with a fistful of toothbrushes (all no-longer-in-use ones, thank goodness!) I went outside to see the operation, and found three boys brushing a wet cat with toothbrushes in each hand.  And now I know that it can indeed be done.

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