My usual custom is to close the bathroom door whilst doing so, however, as there was no one around that might walk in on me and as I had not seen much of my kitties as of late, today, I left the door ajar.
Kikumaru was having fun batting about a toy mouse. George Eliot was precariously balanced on the edge of the tub.
Kikumaru decided that pushing G.E. into the tub would be more fun than any old stuffed rodent and so...pounced.
G.E., who really hasn’t the best balance, tumbled in for a complete dunking. She did not, however, scramble back out in sheer panic as you might expect a house cat to do. No, she sat up, shaking her ears and looking at me as if to say, “This. This is what I have to put up with.”
She then hopped out as gracefully as a waterlogged cat could, and stalked out of the bathroom.
It wasn’t until sometime later that I discovered that she had made a swampy nest for herself in the middle of my freshly turned-down bed.
This, I say. This is what I have to put up with.
Shit, as they say, rolls down hill.
I do wonder how long that will take to dry…