When I became a cat servant, I never expected a time would come when I would be regularly hoisting J.J. onto the bathroom countertop and scrubbing him gently with a hot, wet washcloth, and yet here we are. I know he likes it because he’s the one who instigates bath time by going to the bathroom door and howling at me.

Well, hey, who wants to sit there with pee in your fur? I certainly wouldn’t.

So I put down a towel so that he has something to grip, pick him up, fill the cats-only drinking glass with water and put it in front of his nose, and let him start drinking while I get the washcloth wet and start my chores. I clean his undercarriage (paying special attention to his pooper duper), tail, sides, back and neck, ruffling his fur so that I can wash the skin as well as the fur, then pick up the sides of the towel and give him a gentle but thorough toweling. By the end he’s slight damp, smells much better, and is angling for treats.

I have to admit, his fur has been incredibly soft and fluffy since I’ve been doing this. And he seems happier—in his dear addled mind it’s probably like his mom holding him down and washing him with her tongue. The only other cat who likes to be bathed this way is Jemma and that’s because she has incredibly thick fur and takes dust baths in the litter boxes if I don’t bathe her. So I’m not exactly the Cat Whisperer—I’m just working with the two who like a little extra help with cleaning (trust me, Jessica could give WWE pros a run for their money when I clean the poop around her butt. I pretty much have to wrap my arm around her tummy and clamp her down to the countertop while I scrub and she wails loudly that she’s being abused).

So that’s how my day began. How’s your Saturday going?