These people need to read the cat bathing instructions:
How To Bathe A Cat
(Note: Jeffery LaCroix is a veterinarian with an office in
Wilmington. He writes a column for the Morning Star called
"From Paws to Tails."
Here is his response to a letter regarding bathing a cat:)
Dear Dr. LaCroix: I've heard that cats never have to be
bathed, and that they have some sort of special enzyme in
their saliva that keeps them clean. This doesn't sound
believable to me because there are definite "kitty" odors
on my couch and dirty cat paw prints on our white hearth.
Is this true about the saliva? If we do decide to give
"Nice Kitty" a bath, how do we do that? - NSP, Wilmington
Dear NSP: Fortunately for you, several years ago a client
gave me a written set of instructions about cat bathing
which I am privileged to share with you:
Cat Bathing As A Martial Art
A. Know that although the cat has the advantage of
quickness and lack of concern for human life, you have
the advantage of strength.
Capitalize on that advantage by selecting the battlefield.
Don't try to bathe him in an open area where he can force
you to chase him. Pick a very small bathroom.
If your bathroom is more than four feet square, I recommend
that you get in the tub with the cat and close the sliding
-glass doors as if you were about to take a shower.
(A simple shower curtain will not do. A berserk
cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than
a politician can shift positions.)
B. Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to
remove all the skin from your body. Your advantage here
is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect
yourself.
I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top
construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army
helmet, a hockey face-mask, and a long-sleeved flak jacket.
C. Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat
nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish.
(Cats will not usually notice your strange attire. They have
little or no interest in fashion as a rule.)
D. Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to
survival. In a single liquid motion, shut the bathroom door,
step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip
the cat in the water and squirt him with shampoo.
You have begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life.
E. Cats have no handles. Add the fact that he now has
soapy fur, and the problem is radically compounded.
Do not expect to hold on to him for more than two or three
seconds at a time. When you have him, however, you must
remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub
like crazy.
He'll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby
rinsing himself off. (The national record for cats is three
latherings, so don't expect too much.)
F. Next, the cat must be dried. Novice cat bathers always
assume this part will be the most difficult, for humans
generally are worn out at this point and the cat is just
getting really determined.
In fact, the drying is simple compared with what you have
just been through.
That's because by now the cat is semi-permanently affixed to
your right leg.
You simply pop the drain plug with your foot, reach for your
towel and wait. (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up
clinging to the top of your army helmet. If this happens,
the best thing you can do is to shake him loose and to
encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is
drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach
down and dry the cat.
In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from
your leg. He will usually have nothing to say for about
three weeks and will spend a lot of time sitting with his
back to you.
He might even become psychoceramic and develop the fixed
stare of a plaster figurine.
You will be tempted to assume he is angry.
This isn't usually the case.
As a rule he is simply plotting ways to get through your
defenses and injure you for life the next time you decide
to give him a bath.
But at least now he smells a lot better.