Buster Cat Nixon and I just took a shower together. I would not recommend this.
Buster was a kitten the last time he had a bath human-style. It didn't go well then and we haven't tried again since. I have, on occasion, tried to wash a solitary, dirty paw. Those experiences only reinforced my belief that we shouldn't try the full bath thing again.
Unfortunately this evening Buster had a bit of a litter box snafu. Things didn't go so smoothly and he tried to fix aforementioned snafu by dragging his butt on the floor. UGH! If you have a cat, you have probably experienced this at least one. If you don't...take my word for it - gross.
Christopher and I tried to clean him up, but it really wasn't working. We decided soap and water might be the only way. Additionally, for some reason, Buster had gotten a few matted spots in his fur over the past couple weeks. I figured this might be a good time to go all out and try a full bath.
Duhn-duhn-duhn!
We brought him in the laundry room, started to fill the tub, and somehow he knew what was coming. I'm not sure how he knew, but he knew. He jumped straight up from the floor and hit the TOP of the door frame. (Trying to get out?) I put some flea and tick shampoo we used on him as a kitten in the water, because it has some coat-conditioning stuff that made his fur super soft. I also put some baby shampoo in there that we use to wash Leroy. I soaped up my hands and Christopher put him in the tub.
Wow. This did. not. go smoothly. I know I said this like "Easy-breezy - Christopher just put him in the tub" ...but trust me - it didn't go down like that. There was twisting and flailing and crying and moaning. And that was before his first, little toe even touched the water. Once he hit water, before I knew it, the towel on the side of the sink was in the sink. The washcloth I was going to wash him with was in the sink. An umbrella that was in the back corner of the sink was in the sink. All three bottles of pet/baby shampoo were in the sink. And Buster was just barely in the sink.
He kitty yelled. If he had claws he would have torn us to pieces. I tried to really soap him up good, but the four of our hands could barely keep a hold on him. I was wet. The floor was wet. The counter was covered in water.
I doubt he was in there for more than 90 seconds. He was yelling so bad that he started to pant and almost gasp for breath. It really worried us and I pulled him out, sopping wet, and just held him. If he dripped a drop of water on the floor, he dripped a gallon of water on the floor. No joke. I was completely dripping, but guess what? He was still soapy. And unfortunately I had put that darn flea and tick shampoo in there which, as one might suspect, is not exactly organic. It had to come off of him. Christopher filled a cup of water and tried to gently pour some over him...and me...and the floor. That wasn't really working.
There was really only one other non-submerged-in-sink option left...
Christopher turned the shower on and I followed closely behind. Through the house. With a dripping wet cat in my arms. Fully-clothed, I got in the shower with Buster and tried to rinse all the soap out of his fur. While this wasn't a walk in the park, it actually went a lot better than either of us had imagined. We both emerged from the shower unscathed.
BCN is soap-free, poo-free, mat-free and he's not gasping for air anymore. Bath WIN.
He's been washing himself for the past hour-and-a-half. He actually just got up on Christopher's lap and is now purring while Christopher scratches his head.
We're now bracing ourselves for a hairball the size of Arkansas.
Oh yeah - and we're pretty sure Leroy thinks we torture animals now. Great.
