Cosmo is my constant companion. If he’s not in the same room with me, he’s staring at the door that separates us. It’s really cute — I mean, I love having such an adoring little buddy, but sometimes he can get a little obsessive. He wants to follow me around the house, take over my pillow, sit in my lap while I work, stare at me while I cook and, of course, join me in the bathroom.
He’s always enjoyed our time together in the loo, so I’ve become quite accustomed to our little routine. When I’m visiting the porcelain throne, he insists on sitting in my lap and purring until I swear his throat will burst. Nobody wants to clean that up. You know I’m kidding, right?
In addition to toilet time, he goes absolutely mad when I’m in the shower. Why can’t I get closer to her? I can’t figure out a way to touch her without getting wet. My mind is a stew of confusion and frustration! Yes, based on how he acts when I disappear behind the shower curtain, I’m pretty certain that’s exactly what he’s thinking.
First he paces around the bathroom, wondering what to do. I swear it’s like he’s starring in Groundhog Day. He’s been through this scenario hundreds of times, yet he still acts like it’s his first time, and he’s not sure if I’ll come out alive. He just knows he’ll feel much better if he can see me, and touch me.
After pacing for awhile, he wanders over to the shower and moves the curtain a little with his paw — just enough so he can physically see that I haven’t been washed down the drain. Then he begins desperately mewing while I assure him I’m alive and well.
After he’s calmed down a bit, he makes his final move to stand on the edge of the tub, positioned between the shower curtain and clear liner. Now he can see me, but it’s still not enough! That’s when he starts pawing at me through the liner, begging for some sort of contact. I move closer to him, until the side of my leg sticks to the wet liner. He loves that because then he can paw at my leg and I can pet him through the liner, bubble-boy style. He doesn’t stop at pawing — he also rubs his face all over my plastic-lined leg. Yeah, it’s kinda weird, but strangely sweet.
He remains on the ledge, pawing and mewing until I turn off the water and open the curtain. He then jumps onto the bath mat and watches as I dry off and get dressed. The look of relief on his face is hysterical — he’s so grateful he can finally glue himself to me again. Also, I think he’s glad I didn’t disappear into the shower drain. Nobody’s going down the drain on his watch.
Does your cat go nuts when you take a shower? Tell us about it in the comments!
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About the Author: Angie Bailey is an eternal optimist with an adoration of all things silly. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, thinking about cats doing people things and The Smiths. Writes Catladyland, a cat humor blog, Texts from Mittens (birthed right here on Catster) and authored whiskerslist: the kitty classifieds, a silly book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that features sketches and mockumentaries. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.