Bath Day

Generally Fig gets a bath about once a week - it keeps the dander at a mostly manageable level, and ensures that the spots he doesn't get around to cleaning too often remain sweet smelling. I partly fill up the kitchen sink with warm, soapy water and line up several towels on the counter, then bring Fig over and lower him into the water. We've experimented with a variety of cat shampoos - for shaggy cats, scratchy cats, cats longing to exude an organic aura, for cat owners with allergies - each one costing 3 to 5 times the price of any shampoo I've ever used on my own head. He usually suffers in silence while I soap him up and rinse him with the spray, then use a washcloth on his face and ears. Sometimes he seems to enjoy the finish, when I wrap him up in a couple of bath sheets and gently rub him dry while holding him on my lap, although he rarely allows me to dry him completely, preferring to jump off my lap halfway through and go through an elaborate ritual of shaking each leg in a comical dance before settling down to lick himself dry.

Fig has never been a very difficult cat to bathe, especially not compared with the Maine Coon cat I had to bathe regularly for her dermatitis - she exhibited superhuman strength when it came to wriggling out of my grasp at bathtime. He showed a little more spunk than normal today, though, even growling at me while I rinsed him. I'll take that as a sign that he is feeling more himself, even if it makes bathtime a bit more challenging.

At last Fig emerged from the towels, did his dryoff dance, and happily made his escape to the warm sunshine on the front porch, where he continued his surveillance of the neighborhood.