Cerridwen gets a bath

Sounds kind of sweet, doesn’t it? Sort of like one of those children’s storybooks about everyday events: “Johnny gets a haircut,” “Susie goes to the dentist.”

Alas, if Cerridwen’s opinion were to be requested, I’m sure she’d say this story is far too horrifying for the tender sensibilities of children.

Her opinion was not asked, however, because I am quite certain that she is to blame for my poison ivy outbreak. Negative evidence: I’m sure that I haven’t done anything recently to contact poison ivy, which flourishes in Pepperell and is all over my property. I haven’t done yard work, I haven’t even mowed the lawns for quite a while (it’s been too rainy). Positive evidence: I know that Cerridwen sleeps in the poison ivy (like her predecessor Miss Thing used to) because I’ve seen her there. She’s the only cat who goes outside. And, seeing that I’ve been dressing quite minimally in the hot weather, the worst poison ivy is where Cerridwen would rub against me when I picked her up.

So, she’s not going outside any more. She’s going to drive me nuts teasing, but I don’t need the nuisance. Poison ivy is painful! Plus, just to make sure, I decided to launder her. So, into the sink she went and got a good soak-down and lather. She took it amazingly well. But then, she’s small, so I can wrestle her fairly easily.

There, Cerridwen, now you can see what it’s like to be wet and miserable. Ptooey. Fortunately, she doesn’t sleep many places that I sit–her favorite spot is on top of the DVD player–but I’ll have to launder the blankets, I guess.

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