Washing Up

Today I was reclining on my bed, reading a new book, with Cameline beside me. Puck jumped up on the bed and strolled over, the light of A Mission in his eyes. His mission was to Wash Another Cat. Periodically they all take these fits, in which the other cat is given a thorough bath while the first cat's face bears an expression saying, "Ah, yes, I live to wash your neck, my dearest of friends."

As all cat owners know, however, this tends to degenerate. Rough spots need gnawed on. The neck owner objects to the gnawing. The cleaner throws a paw over the cleanee to hold them down, and continues. The paw is an Unforgiveable Insult, and is bitten. An ear is bitten in return. Instead of a washing, we have wrestling.

This time, however, they managed to both damage their dignity by rolling off the side of the bed during the fight.

Yes, I laughed at them.