10/07/2004

Bathtime

I guess I’m on a roll about my cats lately but to be honest? I just couldn’t NOT post this little bit of funny. No way. Y’all would NEVER forgive me.

So, without further ado……..

Z and I were washing and grooming the 2 boys and Big Mama Isis. (actually she’s tiny as hell, but lots of attitude) It was bath time. I have to help because, well, if I don’t, he might end up killing one of em. He’s awfully heavy handed and rough with them unless they sit still… yeah, cats sitting still in a bath. Well, Max, my big lug, who, for the record is a flame point Himalayan Persian cat. He is a very big boy. I kid you not. He’s about the size of a partially grown cocker spaniel and damn heavy. His head is HUGE. Big ass cat. Anyway, Maximus, the big dork, snuck out of the house and flopped in the garden. My Persian cats are housecats y’all. These are pedigree, longhaired cats and cats like that and the yard? Make for a tangled mess that I have no patience to try and fix normal again. Anyway, if Max had flopped in the grass it wouldn’t have been such a big deal but where did he flop? In the newly empty flowerbed that is nothing but dirt and manure, the stupid bastard. I think he did this little outing right after he had bathed himself cause he was well, covered in the dirt and it was stuck to his fur. Sigh.

So, into the bath he went. He is generally pretty good. Usually just sits and meows a lot, particlary at ME and it sounds just like “Moooooommmm, oooooowwwwwwww,moooooooooooooooom”. Really. So, Z was soaping him down real good, 3rd shampoo and I was holding him and petting him and keeping him calm. Max, not Z! So then Z is soaping Max’s tummy and then he shouts out ………

Are you ready for this?


Are you SURE????????????????

Z shouts out “Ohhhhhhh Shitttttttttttttttttt!!!! Ewwwwwwww yeck! Shit I touched his penis! Fuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!*gag, retch, heave, shudder* Damn… gross…ewwwwww…. I touched it….*more gagging and choking*”

This statement, shouted out loud, sent me in to absolute FITS of laughter. While I was laughing very loud and quite hysterically at him and the look on his face… his gagging and retching noises making me laugh even harder he jumped up and started scrubbing his hands with soap to wash them and , oh, I don’t know, perhaps scrub the skin off them? This made me laugh even harder and I started telling Max, “Hey big boy, I bet this is the BEST bath you EVER got, huh baby?” and he was just looking at me with those huge big blue eyes while I laughed in his little furry kitty face and hearing Z say “oh SHUT UP, will you? *Gag*” . I couldn’t stop though, I just couldn’t.

Come on, do you really blame me?

6 comments:

Hula Doula said...

Nothing like a good bath and whack!! LOL!

cheryl b. said...

Bwahahahaha!!!!!
That reminds me of this dog Mark and I had when we first lived together. Mark had just gotten out of the shower and was drying his hair. He didn't see the dog come into the bathroom and was very surprised to feel a large wet tongue lick his bits!

Indigo Wolf said...

Hell no, I don't blame you!! That's some funny shit. That reminds me of a really funny story my friend sent me. I wish I could find it! If I do I'll send it to you.
-Carrie Jo

Catrina said...

You mean to tell me Z had no problem scrubbing manure off of the cat's butt, but the moment he brushed the cat's pee-pee he started to retch??? Think about all the shit we had to touch at the restaurant....all the licked forks and food that was chewed up and spit out on the plate that we had to handle! I just have one question about Max; was the lipstick out or not?

Scarlett Cyn said...

Ok, no to answer Cat's question, I do think the lipstick was out, cause honestly? He is so damn furry, I can never even tell where the hell it IS, and he lays spread eagle on his back A LOT! Like, ALL THE TIME. His fur is so soft and the exact texture of cotton candy. No crap on his butt, I keep them trimmed (yes, A brave woman I am. You have NO IDEA how paranoid these male cats are about their balls! Jeez!)

Max does look adorable and fluffy clean though. And awfully relaxed, come to think of it. I showed Z "Look how cute he looks! So clean! So.... relaxed and relived! Max, Tell Daddy THANK YOU for the special bath!!!!" As if I will let him live this down for a long time? Hell no!

And Cheryl b? Where the HELL you been woman? I was gettin worried here. And that shower story about Mark? HILARIOUS.

Carrie Jo! Bring on the story if you can find it babe.

Indigo Wolf said...

I found it! OK here it is:

The Hampster Story

This is so funny. If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out loud!

Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?

I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"

Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."

What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"

I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage,?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya think?) By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."

"OH, Gross!", they shrieked.

"Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what are we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too, don't you?) We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.

"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.

"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.

"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.

"I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?" I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. Ernie is a boy."

"What!?"

"You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um....er....masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."

We were silent, absorbing this.

"So Ernie's just... just... Excited?", my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More silence.

Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its... its...teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

"That's enough," I warned.

We thanked the veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay. "I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

2 - Hamsters - 10 bucks...
1 - Cage - 20 bucks
Trip to the Vet ...30 bucks...
Pictures of your hubby pulling on the hamster's wacker........Priceless!