Shirleen, of course, former Dog and Animal Groomer Extraordinaire (still pretty extraordinaire at it, when her fused back and her busy schedule allow her to occasionally coif the wee doggies), knew just what to do with the Greasy Kitten Children. I asked her yesterday, in a falteringly hopeful voice, “Won’t the oil just eventually soak in?” She rolled her eyes (subtly – YES MY MOTHER TAUGHT US TO ROLL OUR EYES AND SHE CAN ONLY TRY AND DENY IT) and in a patient voice explained that they’d have to be bathed again because the oil would just stick in the undercoats. I don’t think it had even absorbed that far.
Shirleen also suggested a particular method to use. So the Kitten Children are now luxuriously clean by everyone’s standards (if you’ve ever bathed a cat you’ll know that they lick themselves NON-STOP for two or three days afterwards). I only have a few panicked feline Velcro claw marks. And they EVEN have forgiven me (or they’re lulling me into a sense of complacency to plot my untimely demise).
Here is my only complaint: Shirleen HELPED you bathe Truman, Jennette. She conveniently “ran an errand” yesterday as I was bathing the cats. And no one else was qualified (or could be bothered) to answer my cries for help when BeBe was ATTACHED FIRMLY TO MY SHOULDER AND WAS WORKING HER WAY DOWN MY BACK. Wait – Sarah came and asked if she could help, but by then I had BeBe pinned down in the Kitchen Sink WITH MY ENTIRE BODY so I couldn’t really think of something for her to do. Shirleen DID turn Lark (my Parents’ wee geriatric dog) into a clean and lovely semblance of a poodle which is only a little odd because she is a Maltese.