No bathtime!

The Lolabear was getting pretty dirty and scuzzy living it up in the wretched pit known as Le Barrows, so it was high time for a kitty bath last night. Armed with rubber gloves, cat shampoo, a hysterically laughing Terence and a warm, inviting tub, this 8-minute exercise in futility was, surprisingly, a moderate success. Lola got clean, but vengeful. She refused to sleep in my bed last night, and for the first time since moving into the new crib in September, she didn't accompany me into the bathroom for my morning routine. As Morrissey once said, "My cat holds more grudges / Than lonely high court judges." Just look at the DEATH STARE I got last night:



But now she's all clean and furry, and hopefully I won't have a mouse tail sitting on my pillow when I return home. Lola can have a pretty bad attitude sometimes (I blame her mother), so we'll see what awaits me at home. I'm prety sure it won't be love.