Wet cats or murder?

So I've been itching a bit lately, and then the cats started scratching, so I began to suspect the mites had not been completely eradicated. Not about to go back to the vet for another round of Revolution, I decided instead to buy some spray, do another ton of laundry, and give the cats a bath.

I'd cleaned and sprayed the bathroom, and had the window open to let fresh air in. I put about 6 inches of warm water in the tub, trimmed cat claws, and started with Harry.

Now that he's old an arthritic, Harry just sat there, unhappily, while I scrubbed him down. towards the end, he'd decided he'd had enough and let out a single yowl. I toweled him off, and that was it. He tottered off, shaking off his wet paws.

I repeated the process for George. Like Harry, George doesn't bite or scratch. He's fairly docile. He's scrawny, 17, and fragile.

The noises he made had me expecting someone to call the police.

"I'm bathing my cat!" I'd yell out periodically, hoping it carried through the window as I'm sure George's piercing shrieks and howls did.

He didn't struggle or try to jump out; he merely screamed and yowled, yowled and screamed. At one point he got water up his nose and you'd have sworn I was a waterboarding interrogator at Gitmo.

As I lifted him from the tub to put him on the towel, he gave one final, apocalyptic scream, and then fell completely silent as I swaddled him in a beach towel, his huge eyes staring out at me from his skinny wet face like ET when he was wrapped in the blanket.

The cats are now dry and fluffy, and smell spicily of Aveda Scalp Benefits.

And no more scratching.