Cats hate baths. This seems to be universal knowledge. My cat is no different. He hates baths. What sucks for him is that he's quite dandruffy lately. My mom, I guess she was feeling ambitious, decided that now was as good a time as any to bathe him.
Normally, doing this requires us to get into crappy clothes, the prepare for Meeko literally latching onto us (for not having fingers or thumbs, he has an excellent grip) and yowling loud enough to bring down the house. It takes upward of twenty minutes depending how many times he manages to run away. I don't know if it's old age that's mellowed him or if he's just more comfortable with my mom, by his bath took under ten minutes, there wasn't so much as a meow and he came out looking terrified but no worse for wear. As for my mom, she was completely dry except for where she'd wrapped him in a towel and held him. Talk about weird.
Now, here's today's discovery. While cats hate baths, the also hate blowdryers. Poor Meeko was shivering and doing his level best to dry off (while staying as far away from us evil humans as possible). My mom felt bad, caught him and introduced him to her industrial strength blowdryer. Yeah, shortest relationship in history. I'm surprised the wind whipping past him as he bolted didn't dry him. If only he'd thought of this...
We might have been entertained enough to live with is dandruff... probably not.
He spent the rest of the day on my bed... getting it all nice and damp for me... God bless him. He knows no one will get him in my room. I think my room is the only one in the house that the whole family does not frequent. There's something to be said for being boring.
Other than relating stories from cat land, I did some writing today. Some of it for fun, some of it for venting, some with a purpose. I've spent the last... four-ish months waiting for March. Now that it's here... I could really see it come to a close. Acceptance or rejection letters arrive this month and waiting is kind of driving me crazy. Crazier. I admitted it. It's weird that a letter will decide where I'm living next year. Another reason my patience is running thin. And I'm generally a very patient person.
Maybe I should take my cue from the praying cat. There's still time right?