You know when I lead with a photo like this one, the post isn’t going to have a happy ending.
Don’t worry…I didn’t try to slit my wrists.
I attempted to blow dry a cat.
(Which might almost be worse.)
It all started when I saw a totally adorable “Cat’s who love baths” video floating around my Facebook news feed. Picture a three-minute montage of kitties purring, stretching and sometimes even swimming in tubs of warm water. Could it be? Do some cats really love baths?
Lars loves playing with water out of the faucet, I though to myself.
He insist on going on 3 mile walks and not only wears sweaters but actually has grown to prefer them, I continued.
These were the ideas prancing through my crazy cat mom brain when I hopped into our tub last night for a relaxing post-workout bath.
When Lars trotted by, announcing himself with an obnoxiously loud “Meeeeeoooooowwwww”, I couldn’t help but reach out and plop him in the tub.
(In hindsight, all of the footage from the inspiration video was definitely cats bathing without humans. Perhaps this was my first mistake.)
Does Lars love baths? No. But he doesn’t really hate them either. He just kind of sat there, his fluffy body half-submerged for a good two to three minutes while I continually adjusted his paws to a position where I wouldn’t get scratched. He tried to escape a few times, but I managed to calm him down and convince him to stay in the water just a bit longer. I’d compare Larsy’s bathing experience to my twice-yearly visits to the dentist. While it’s not something I enjoy or look forward to, I also wouldn’t consider it traumatic or scarring. Sometimes you’ve just gotta get your teeth cleaned whether you like it or not.
It was at this point that Scott realized exactly what I was up to.
(Oh the joys of having a master bathroom that is completely open to the rest of your bedroom. Us crazy cat bathing ladies have nowhere to hide!)
Surprisingly, Scott didn’t seem too upset by my half-brained catventure. Dare I say it, he was actually intrigued. He sauntered over to see what was going on, and then started taking a few photos with his iPhone.
Initially, I thought this was a bit bizarre and felt incredibly uncomfortable. Then I reminded myself that lots of people have baby photos in the bathtub with their parents, and as long as everything is covered/cropped out, it’s not the most terrible thing in the world, right?
(Alright…maybe bathtub pictures with the cat are a little different…but to be fair, the photographic evidence was NOT my idea.)
A few minutes later, Scott removed Lars from the tub and dried him off. I hopped out and took a shower (bathing with your cat doesn’t exactly get you squeaky clean), and returned to our bedroom to see just how bad the physical evidence was.
“Scott, can I please see those photos you took? I want to delete the bad ones.”
“Oh,” he replied casually, “I don’t have any photos…it was actually a video.”
Oh dear God.
“What? A video? Oh jeeez. Please let me delete it?”
“Well,” he snickered, “It’s not exactly stored on my phone anymore. I sent it as a SnapChat.”
The color drained from my face as I unleashed a scream that sounded like the girl from The Exorcist, only less demon possessed and more animal hoarder-y. A SnapChat? A SNAPCHAT? OF ME NAKED IN A BATHTUB WITH A NINE POUND MALE CAT?!?!?!
Scott calmed me down and explained he had only sent it to one person. And let’s be real…this girl has seen me doing far more questionable things than bathing with a cat.
(Kayla, I would like to personally thank you for NOT taking a screenshot of that video.)
All in all, the damage was fairly minimal.
Until I attempted to blow-dry Lars, that is. His coat looked like sad 1980s troll doll hair that’s been left out in the rain for three hours–I couldn’t resist trying to help him.
As the first photo in this post demonstrates, Lars would much rather chill in warm water for ten minutes than be subjected to the wrath and horror of a hair dryer.
(Even if it is a $200 one from DryBar.)
Fortunately, Lars was able to dry himself completely (Using his tongue! Cat’s are so weird…) in under forty-five minutes. He even hopped into bed with me and purred on my chest for a good hour as if to tell me all was forgiven.
I suppose this blog post does have a happy ending after all.
(So long as that SnapChat never again sees the light of day.)