I like to start the day by visiting the bathroom, then heading to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. I turn on the laptop, and by the time it has booted up, the coffee is done. I sit down at my heavy old fashioned editor’s chair at the table and with the coffee mug steaming, I go through my daily web routine of news and blog reading. This did not happen today.
I got as far as the bathroom. I peed vigorously while admiring my two rambunctious kittens cavorting and careening toward me. Just as I arose from the throne, kitty Bert leapt joyfully atop, plunging headfirst into the yellow bowl. “Cripes!” I yell, and instantly he was a mass of quivering, urine soaked kittenish squalling, shaking, and general wetness; all legs spluttering to get out. I grabbed him before he could escape into the apartment, with all its clean rugs, and threw him into the tub.
For the first time I was glad I had shower doors instead of a curtain. I got in there with him and commenced filling the tub. Understand, all this was within 5 seconds, and Bert still isn’t quite sure what happened. I knew, the dripping walls and puddling floor were telling me. But when he saw the waterline inexorably creep toward him, well, suffice to say now I really know what “climbing the walls” means.
Washing him was an experience I don’t care to repeat, not because he was a bad boy about it, but because he was so good. He doesn’t have a fully developed meow and all he does is sort of squeak and look pitifully at me with big eyes, like ET when his heart light was going out. Oy.
I made the washing happen fast and then the fun part began with the drying. Poor l’il bugger. I had him swaddled in a towel in a trice and did my best to make sure he was clean and dry before releasing him to roam the apartment.
My next job was to clean and dry the walls. And the floor. And the toilet seat. And the shower doors. In my wet pajamas. Without benefit of coffee.
So, I put in a full day before breakfast. Like the Marines. Complete with capturing an elusive enemy, containing, interrogating, and releasing him to roam once more. Oy.