Cat and Water

Phoebe has now settled into the family. She no longer runs and hides under the bed when we open the front door - instead, she either gives us a mouthful, or gives us her most disdainful looks.

So Mack and I took the next logical step with her - torture. Its true. We decided that she was comfortable enough for us to attempt to bath her. More fool us.

Her is a pictoral chronology of the process:

Step one: We lulled her into a sense of complete comfort and trust. Just look at that cute belly.


Step two: We lured her close to the bathroom by using her favourite toy. She absolutely adores that thing and carries it around in her mouth.


Step three: As a precautionary measure, I donned my wetsuit, or as I like to call it - my anti-claw-me-to-death-suit. This is where it got hectic (as you can see in the action shot of me grabbing her and putting her in the bath tub).


Step four: Hold her down and turn on the hand held shower. Douse her thoroughly, and wash her using baby shampoo. (Unfortunately we don't have a photo of this step, cause we were both using our hands and feet just keeping her in the bath and trying to get her as clean as possible, as fast as possible).

Step five: Towel dry a drowned rat looking Phoebe as she struggles to make a clean get away.


We thought that our poor cat might despise us after what we put her through, but on the contrary she became even more affectionate, and is now so soft and clean smelling that I want to just scratch her all over.