So Kat, our large primary cat, if given the slightest opportunity, likes to dash outside and roll in the dirt.

This is annoying, as he is a partially white, inside cat. But he doesn’t run far, so if he occasionally dashed out, we didn’t worry about it.

Well, we forgot that there’s a stray in the neighborhood, who likes to spend time in our yard (taunting Kat we’re sure). What I didn’t consider is that the stray has fleas. And so Kat got fleas. And gave them to our small, secondary cat, Kit.

So yesterday Orkin came to spray, and we took the cats to get a flea bath. Kat started protesting as soon as the young lady took him back, and when she started to bathe him he began yowling–dare I say caterwauling?–so loudly, you’d have thought they were attempting to tear him limb from limb. It was so bad that the lady brought his pathetic, wet self out as soon as she was done, so I could see that he was okay.

I felt terrible because she kept apologizing, saying she wanted to let me know he was fine and that they hadn’t been hurting him in the back. I wanted to apologize for her having to listen to his whining for so long and at such a volume.

Kit was silent through the whole process, although when they brought her out (we took them wet, since we didn’t feel like waiting two hours for them to dry) she was shivering as if she was freezing cold.

With temperatures yesterday in the high 90s, about 30 seconds in the car took care of that.

But the cats are clean (and smell lovely!) and the house has been sprayed, so other than the unpteen loads of laundry I did yesterday, and not wanting to touch the floors with my bare feet, we’re good. And both cats seemed to have forgiven us immediately.