Waterbabies and cats.

Tumshie

There isn't that much in life I enjoy more than a bath. I really am a water-baby.

I decided to have a long relaxing bath last night.

However no other living thing in this house likes me to have peace and quiet there. Mr M often pops in to chat to me. I don't ever like to say 'go away' as he wouldn't listen. He sometimes needs attention like I need chocolate.

But the real problem is the cats. They just detest it. 

Betty

The lock on the door is a bit dodgy so I only lock it if Mr M is in as I don't fancy being locked in the loo all day.

So the two cats have worked out that if they push and push against any door in this house it'll open. If not they'll wail at the door till we can't stand it. But the way they persistently and relentlessly try the door is unnerving and not a little creepy.

You know that bit in a horror film when the murderer is trying to get in and the girl is trapped in a room and the tension mounts till you can't stand it, till it's broken by her screaming and close ups of splashes of blood?

Well, it's a cuter version of that. No blood.

They got in. The next trick is that they ran to the side of the bath and stood on their back legs looking at me assessing the situation.

Both of them obviously felt I need rescuing.  I suppose in a cat’s mind the question is “Why on earth would anyone voluntarily steep themselves in water. Evil stuff. And that woman gives us food. Therefore get her out of there at ONCE’

If I make eye contact they start to wail again, usually at that point I'm shouting at Mr M to come get them.

That night I was on my own...so they had a quick confab and decided on a plan to rescue me.

This usually involves them getting onto the edge of the bath an operation that isn't as easy as it once was. No one in my house is as young as they once were.

So after a few failed attempted with lots of cat grunts and scrambling feet and a few bulging eyeballs. They finally arrived, a bit disheveled and panting. But triumphant, as they are now precariously balanced on the edge.

If I was a crueler woman I would simply push them off at this point. But I just rearranged the towels on the books on the chair beside the bath in the faint hope they'll just sit and have a wee cat nap. Ha! It sometimes works.

Not today.

Instead of having a nap they sat cheek to cheek and stared at me. Obviously trying to think of what to do next.

Ever been stared at by a two cats?

There’s that word again…

Unnerving.

Especially when you are naked and they are both primly turned out and buttoned up.  You feel a bit wrong footed.

Another conflab and they decide I need more persuasion. So they patted my cheek.

Pat.

Pat.

But I was equally as determined so ignored them.

It took ten minutes before I shouted and splashed water at them. This just got a sympathetic look. The water had obviously got to me. One went down to investigate my toes that were peeking through the bubbles.

As she 'investigated' with her claws, I yelped and pushed them both down.

Firmly.

Two secs later they were back. They'd now got the hang of the bath marlarky.

I gave up....this was the least relaxing bath I've ever had.

I'm now in the living room and they're sound asleep on our bed. 

Wave a camera in their general direction always makes them change position.

Ignoring me. Completely ignoring me.

Feline mission accomplished.