Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Wet Cat

Sandy appeared for breakfast right on time. If there’s something that Sandy does with great precision, aside from sleep, it’s to arrive at mealtime.

Sandy Boy was looking a little damp. He strolled into the kitchen, avoided eye contact with me, and proceeded to shake his wetness all over my briefcase.

“Sandy Boy, you’re all wet!”, a voice said, “Is it raining?”

Skies were clear. I looked out back at the pool. Hmm, I thought, I can probably get those claw marks in the plaster filled. Yeah, good as new.

“Good boy, Sandy!”, I offered cheerfully.

Sandy gave me a hard glance, swiped at my briefcase with his claws and marched to his bowl.

Nice cat.

3 comments:

J said...

Dual purpose. More bang for your buck. A real deal. Two, *two*, TWO mints in one.

schmims said...

My cat Hazey is hilarious when she gets a bath. She hates them so much that she literally climbs the walls. And hangs off the soap dish holder with her front paws. Makes the soaping easier.

Moose said...

Wow. I didn't realize it was even possible to bathe a cat. I would just rely on it falling into the pool.