Resistance Is Futile

Two weeks ago I gave Rhadwen her Triennial Cat Bath. Here's this big calico kitty with all her claws, known for scratching some people's eyes out** and sending others to the emergency room (see link to her MeanKitty profile, to the right in the Virtual Tie-Out List). And she sat there in the bathtub with me hardly holding her, submitting to the indignity of being soaked wet and bathed.

How could this be?

Oh, yeah, I remember. She started getting baths back when she was a tiny kitten and came to me with fleas. She figured out early there's no point in fighting the Dreaded Bath: just endure it and get it over with.

Gwenith and Huw don't have fleas. They weren't particularly dirty. (Gwenith got a bath from Hannah* after she was recovered from the floor cavity of Hannah and Steve's* new house.) But both kittens need to learn the same lesson their big sister did eight years ago.

So I bathed them both this afternoon. Gwenith actually fought more-- maybe because she knew what was coming!

They survived, and they're sleeker and fluffier for the exercise.

And hopefully, when they're great big grownup kittehs and they get dirty and need to be bathed, they'll go peaceably to their doom. Because at bathtime, Resistance Is Futile.

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*Made-up names
**Mine, practically, when trying to jump out of my arms to chase some neighborhood cats