Armed For Battle

As Oreo gets progressively sicker with stomatitis, she's unable to keep herself groomed. I've been combing her fur and washing her with disposable pet wipes, but she's gotten to the point of having to have a vet-ordered bath.

Oreo's the most patient, easy-going cat I - and the vet - have ever seen. She takes her daily meds without a fuss and didn't fight me even when she had to be medicated through an I.V. But I figured all bets were off where a tub of water was concerned.

Dick helped arm me (sorry) for battle - thick dish towels on both arms, held in place with painters tape. I put a towel in the bottom of the tub so Oreo wouldn't slide around (learned that lesson a month ago during the first bath. Slipping cat = unhappy unhappier cat.) She wasn't pleased, but after a short struggle when I first put her in the water, Oreo just sat there and let me get on with it. She didn't even object when I poured water over her back and sides, something she strongly disliked the first time. And I think she actually likes having her back scratched - not enough to want to do this again anytime soon though . . . When I opened the bathroom door to let her out, she turned to give me a dirty look, then sat down and started grooming. I really expected her to run and hide.As I write this an hour post-bath, Oreo's sitting at my feet. She won't let me put her in my lap - she wants me to know she's still p**sed - but she also doesn't want me out of her sight. She's such a sweet puppy kitty.

Some warped weaving humor. Too funny.