A couple of weeks ago, almost a month now I suppose, we rescued a small cat from the swamp by Monkey’s school. She has adjusted to her life here rather well, she snuggles with us, visits downstairs even when the dogs are around, and is good at reminding us of our responsibilities. We have been waiting for her to adjust before we gave her a bath. Well today was the day!!!
Bathing cats is a lot like trying to juggle Slinky’s. They generally dislike being wet, and will fight fiercely to avoid it. However, there are certain holds I have developed over the years that will allow me to keep them from running away covered in pet shampoo, and will also prevent them from scratching the hell out me. (The most successful one involves placing a hand on each side of the cat, thumbs over the shoulder blades, first two fingers under chest, last two under the belly.)
I held poor trusting Hazel in the sink while Lee ran the sprayer over her. She never uttered a sound. She stretched into every permutation possible in her attempts to get out of my grasp, she beseeched us with wide pleading eyes, but she did not complain. We washed all the remaining loose fur from her little body and wrapped her in a towel. The she and I had a discussion about the purpose of the towel. I tried to show her that it was a tool intended to assist her in drying off, but she was only interested in fleeing the foreign device. She is currently upstairs, mostly damp, attending to her injured vanity.
We usually do kitty baths a couple times a year, with a special soap that assists in damping down the allergens they produce. Since many of our friends have cat allergies, and Monkey has asthma, this seems a good way to keep all our furry friends, and our human ones.
Soon, it will be the kitten’s turn. But not today. One cat bath at a time! Hazel has already forgiven us, she is purring away and using her persuasive powers to try to get me to bring her more wet catfood.
Many of you may remember my post about the little kitty who approached me outside Monkey’s school and told me to take her home. Well I did, and she is a happy and healthy new member of our household.
We decided to name her Hazel, though that name took a lot of time to develop.
First of all, my dad suggested we name her Fancy, after the Bonnie Raitt song. It seemed to fit, both her situation and her personality, so we gave it a try. But it was pretty clear early on that it wasn’t working. Sometimes a name just doesn’t fit a cat. So I sat down to study our new feline friend, and made some crucial naming obsevations. 1. She came to us the day before halloween. 2. She is black and pumpkin colored. 3. She is fairly intense in attitude and appearance. She needs a serious name.
I continue to research, this time focusing on her breed. It appears that a stray tortie fortells bad luck… hmm… luckily she is no longer a stray. Historically, tortoiseshells have been to be able to tell the future and are likely to give the gift to a lucky child in the household. Hmmm… okay, so now I have a clairvoyant black and orange cat who came to me the day before halloween. Well clearly a name like ‘fluffy’ or ‘paws’ simply won’t do.
I decided to look up the names of oracles and other future tellers,but none of them fit. Dione was too pretentious, Delphi too odd, Artemis too much. Then I was sitting there staring at her rather intense gaze and realized…. Hazel is an herb used in divination, and a golden, reddish, brownish color. I say… “Hazel?” Lee responds, “Okay, that name works.” Hazel starts to purr. (She has a purr that can be hard for miles)
She is learning her new name, and has settled in amazingly fast. She is completely comfortable in her new abode, and is a very snuggly creature. As to which child she will bless with future-telling? Only time will tell.
Managing life with chronic illness requires savvy spoons