CONFESSIONS OF A CAT-SITTER
Attempting the impossible job of bathing a cat leads to a hilarious moment for Chris.
Attempting the impossible job of bathing a cat leads to a hilarious moment for cat-sitter Chris.
I’ve only ever given two cats a bath, mainly because bathing cats isn’t a sensible thing to do.The first time was entirely by accident; one of my cats managed to hide out in the bathroom, waited until I was safely soaking, and then engaged in a spot of toe fishing, one of his favourite sports. While perching precariously between taps and attempting to claw-hook my toe, he eventually (and inevitably) fell headfirst into the bath.The resulting fight ended in my legs getting scratched to pieces and him inadvertently getting a really good soak and scrub — so only ‘sort of a bath’.
The second time was entirely different. A cat-sitting customer departed on a trip after leaving a note explaining that her long-haired Somali, Derek, had diarrhoea, which caused him “a problem keeping the fur around his rear end clean” and asking “could you possibly run him a shallow bath and clean him up?” Well, that was a nice surprise.
What wasn’t at all surprising was that this proved absolutely impossible and at the disappointed owner’s subsequent request, I ended up taking Derek for a clean-up at the vet’s — me covered in Elastoplasts and accompanied by my long-suffering wife, Lorraine. He also needed his yearly vaccination so I could ‘kill two birds with one stone.’
After a brief examination, the vet disappeared to show the bedraggled and slightly smelly Derek to her colleagues — she probably wanted to check what the hell she was looking at.
She returned a few minutes later, without Derek, glanced down at her notes and then looked up at me. “So, eh, Dave, is it?”
“No, it’s Chris,” I said, smiling.
“Ah OK, sorry.”
Lorraine, who’d been chatting to the receptionist, joined us in the room at this moment and the vet explained the situation.
“OK,” she said solemnly. “We can’t vaccinate Chris today because he needs some medication for his messy bottom.” Lorraine looked bemused for just one moment and then her face began to crumple into a desperately suppressed grin. My attempts at a quick name correction were drowned out by Lorraine’s muffled laughter and the vet continued: “Chris is also pretty fat which may explain why he isn’t washing properly. So he needs a better diet, and also keep him indoors for a few days so he doesn’t attract flies.” Lorraine’s face contorted and she ran from the room laughing.
“Um, just so you know, I’m Chris; the cat’s called Derek.”
The vet regarded me carefully before simply nodding and continuing her instructions.
Incidentally, this type of reaction is typical of Lorraine. Once, at the opticians, the assistant kept readjusting my glasses over and over, saying that the problem was that I had an abnormally wide head and my eyes were too close together. I’m not sure exactly what type of person this made me sound like, but Lorraine eventually had to leave the premises.We could both hear her screams of laughter outside.
Anyway, Derek returned a few minutes later — they’d given the poor lad a bath. I regarded him carefully; when soaked to the skin, he didn’t look fat at all. I wish I could lose weight so quickly.
She ran from the
room laughing...