I saw a couple of fleas on Kiki, our kitty. This will not do, so I decided to give her a bath. I've done this before with a Persian that always pooped on himself, so I know how incredibly difficult it is.
The girls and I were off to the tub with Kiki. I had to clear all objects from the bathroom that could hurt someone if knocked around, understanding that a wet cat can cause some "get me the heck out of here" damage.
Georgia and Maggie situated themselves on the toilet for the show, while I armed myself with my grossest shirt and latex gloves. Notice Brad isn't mentioned yet. He's coming up.
The water flows, the cat freaks, and Georgia starts crying. "You're hurting Kiki!" she's wailing at me. Not helpful as I'm trying to hold onto a slippery mass of hysteria. I tell Georgia that I'm not hurting the cat. If anybody was to get hurt it'd be me with her back claws. She isn't buying it. Maggie desperately wants to cry in a show of compassion towards the cat but just can't muster up real tears.
The bathroom door swings open and there's Brad - with a camera. "I can't get a good shot of her" he complains as he directs me to turn her for a face shot. Brad is nothing if not helpful.
Lots more tears from Georgia, general unhappiness from Kiki,complete boredom from Maggie, and photos from Brad. Relief from me to finally be done.
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