In a moment of giddy over-confidence, DD and I decided to enter Lily in the state fair cat show this year. The big event, set for August 12, will be the first time Lily has competed in anything, other than for morsels of Tinsel's food. DD and I have attended several cat shows and know how the process works. Based on what we've seen, we've convinced ourselves that Lily could be a contender. We're even thinking that she could win some sort of prize for her pleasing personality.
To prepare for the big event, last night DD gave Lily a bath. This was actually Lily's second bath. (Her first one occurred, unbeknownst to me, on the day of our garage sale.) Because Lily knew what was coming, let's just say she was less than cooperative. I experienced this first-hand as she climbed over and down my back, 100 claws fully extended. And DD, having given one cat one bath in her lifetime, suddenly became the Expert Cat Bather.
"Mom! DO NOT try to take pictures! Lily does not want to be photographed!"
(Blood running down my back, I remained undaunted in my pursuit of wet cat photos.)
After a few minutes in the tub, it was obvious that Lily didn't care to be rinsed with the plastic cup. But she didn't mind being wrapped in a wet washcloth. The deluded part of me thinks that if we were to bath her frequently enough, she might even start to enjoy it. Although I might not survive.
When she was finished with her bath, Lily bolted from the bathroom, looking altogether like some freakish alien creature. Tinsel, who was waiting outside the bathroom door, had a look of complete terror in her eyes when she saw Wet Lily run past. Even this morning, Tinsel is a bit wary of Lily. She's not quite sure what she saw last night.
But Lily's fur is silky smooth. She is so soft that the judge may not be able to hang onto her. And she smells fresh and clean. It's good to look and smell the part, right?