July 14, 2010

• Temps de Bain Pour Le Sam

  
  A lot of folks feel that cats don’t need traditional soap-and-water baths, since they are such clean animals. “They are always cleaning themselves, anyway.”

  I don’t buy into that horse-hockey.

  Once a year, The Sam gets a bath, whether he thinks he needs it or not. His fur is thick; his tongue can’t get through it well enough to really cleanse his skin… and with all of the trying, no matter how much we brush him, he may still get a hairball. Hairballs aren’t just gross; they can actually be fatal: they can get stuck in a kitty’s stomach, and they can actually block his food digestion. Brushing him a lot helps, and giving him hairball-paste a couple of times a week is great… but once a year, a real scrubby-bubble bath is required.

  When we visited The Sam at the kennel yesterday, I was talking to Kim (one of The Sam’s caretakers/girlfriends) about it. She said, “Oh, I can give him a bath, if you want!”

  “You’re a very brave lady,” I said. “He doesn’t even like it when I bathe him.” (He’s never scratched me, but he gets angry and screams like he’s being impaled or something!)

  Kim smiled. “I have a little harness I can put on him, to keep him in the tub here… we can do it tomorrow, if you want to help…”

  “Okay,” I said. “As long as it’s a nice, sunny day. Then, he can lay out afterward, to dry off.”

  This morning I woke up, opened the blinds, and thought to myself, it’s a nice, sunny, warm summer day. It’s a perfect day to give a kitty a much-needed bath.

  Ken and I cleaned our selves up, grabbed a nice, clean towel, and drove to the kennel.

  Kim said hi to us as we walked in. “He’s been out all morning while I cleaned up in there… I think he’s napping now.”

  I smiled. The Sam follows Kim around while she cleans. Ken and I have been thinking that Kim is his favourite.

  “Hiya, Handsome,” I said, as Ken unlocked the kitty condo and our big pile of grey and white fur bonked my forehead with his. “Let’s brush you out and get you ready for bath time, okay?”

  Behind me, Kim said, “Oh, I brushed him out just before I put him back in his condo. He really likes brushing, huh?”

  “It’s one of his favourite things,” Ken said. Ken loves to brush The Sam.

  Kim put him into this little harness that fit around his belly. A thin chain was hooked onto it (kind of like a mini-leash), and that was locked onto a metal ring in the wall, just above the hip-level tub. The Sam looked curious.

  Then he felt the water. The Sam looked pissed.

  “This is oatmeal shampoo,” Kim said. “It’s very gentle… and it smells really good.”

  She squirted it all over him, and then, with a plastic massager, Kim began lathering up The Sam. Not too gentle, not too rough.

  I washed his face while Kim took care of the rest of him.

  He purred.

  The Sam didn’t like the rinsing off part as much as he did the lathering bit… but he didn’t scratch or hiss once.

  Kim took a towel out of the dryer and wrapped it around The Sam. He purred again.  She took off the harness and lifted him out of the tub. He looked like a big furry baby in a receiving blanket… and he was giving us all kisses. He smelled wonderful!

  We took turns brushing him out and toweling him. Then, Ken and I took The Sam out for his little nature walk while Kim took care of a new customer. He chewed on some grass for a minute or two, and hung out in the sun. Mostly, he licked himself and shook himself off.

  When we came back inside, Kim was changing out The Sam’s bedding: he has a cuddle-bed now, and extra towels (He has a thing for towels). She gave him some hairball paste, too… the malt flavour that he loves.

  After we said our good-byes to The Sam, I told Kim, “I’m pretty sure you’re his favourite.”

  She giggled. “He’s my favourite.”

  I rolled my eyes as we left, laughing to myself. The little shit.
  

  • 12:08 am
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