This is an occasional Sunday feature where my cat, pardon, Her Majesty the Cat, offers her more or less gracious insight into our lives.
I skipped a week again, didn’t I? Well, last week was uneventful and lazy. The summer is slowly coming in, though with storms, so I just relaxed a bit and had plenty of well-deserved rest.
This week hasn’t been so relaxing, however. I somehow got fleas. Grrrr! Hate fleas. Those nasty parasites! Pepca takes care of giving me anti-fleas drops regularly, but it still happens once or twice a year. So, she had to give me a bath.
I felt just like this poor fellow (my sympathies, buddy):
Okay, being more of a mild behaviour, I probably didn’t have that killer look. I did meow a lot, of course. Imagine yourself getting soaked through five layers of winter clothing, than shampooed, and rubbed, and then soaked again. That is how a cat feels when having a bath!
I think I should get a special prize for the best cat behaviour when bathing, because I did not scratch Pepca even once.
And a special cat Oscar for patience goes to: