TobyJoe suggested that I take a bath. I had just had surgery on my face and wasn’t feeling too well. A bath might do the trick.
I grabbed some candles and a book and ran the bathwater. Murray bolted in from wherever. Murray always bolts in from wherever whenever someone leaves the door open to the bathroom. He watched the water pool and swirl, curious as ever. I poured in some bubble bath and the two of us watched the suds bubble up. Steam filled the bathroom. I got in.
I leaned forward to shave my legs, a task made for a weed whacker. I grabbed the razor and dove right in. Murray stood on the ledge next to me dizzily slapping bubbles with his paw.
Minutes went buy and I switched legs. Murray grew more curious. He started to round the back of the tub, the skinny part where a normal, graceful cat might fair pretty well. But graceful, Murray is not. And I think it’s pretty safe to say he’ll never be a member of Mensa.
Perhaps he felt adventurous. Maybe he was just lonely and cold. Perhaps the bubbles confused him. All I know is Murray hasn’t ever smelled this good.
P.S. I am having some serious blog issues today. Lost a post. Found it. Lost it again. Finally, I decided that the blog was trying to tell me that I couldn’t let a Tuesday go by without a Murray. Please forgive me for the issues. But here’s a Murray.
Part of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), where one writes every day for the month of November, which is easier said than done.