Tails from the Tub

Google is a big fat liar. Google says Norwegian Forest Cats are waterproof. Wrong wrong wrong. Operation-Bathe-Me this afternoon proved otherwise.

I have to share some images of my fellow felines who met the same fate since Curiosa's camera is DEFINTELY not waterproof.

She came home from the pet store with a big bag of what I thought were treats. There were treats, but it was really a great big gigantic farce to lull me into trusting her. She also had kitty shampoo. Dum dum dum.

First she tried the kitchen sink. Yeah, right. At first I thought she was just doing the dishes, but then again, she never does the dishes. She hates doing the dishes more than she hates cleaning out my litter box.

I didn't really believe it was happening. Surely, Curiosa wasn't really trying to put me into the sink with water in it. It had to be some kind of a misunderstanding.

I had enough of that after just getting my tootsies wet. I was outta there like a bolt of lightning. A sopping wet bolt of lightening.

I clung to Curiosa because she couldn't really have meant to put me in the water-filled sink. It must have been some kind of mistake. Surely she wouldn't try it again.

She wrapped me in a towel and carried me to the bathroom. Oh good, I thought, now it's over, and we can just put this whole bathing incident behind us. Wrong again.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

This time, we BOTH took a bath. Or rather, a shower. And so did the rest of the bathoom.

She got me, she did, but I made good and sure that Curiosa was as wet as I was.

Then, of all things, the silly girl thought she was going to blowdry me. I was having none of that! Now I'm hiding under the couch, glowering, and blogging. I pray to St. Gertrude that this never happens EVER again.