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So Kevin’s off on a business trip for a bit, and I’m engaging in the usual behaviors that make me feel better when he’s out of town, like checking the locks eight hundred times, turning on a radio in every room in the house, and eating takeout crab rangoon. (Yes, I know it’s not real crab. It may not even be real rangoon. I don’t care.) There is a large, sad dog in the downstairs hallway staring fixedly at the door in hope that his god will return at any moment. There is a regular-sized, amiable beagle wandering around hoping that Kevin is dead so that he (the beagle) can assume the preeminent place in my affections. I decide to leave them to their respective dreams and take a hard cider and a gardening book and go have a hot bath.

While I am sitting on the toilet waiting for the tub to fill and the bubble bath to become more than a few sad suds, Angus (aka Little Orange Cat) jumps up on the edge of the tub and peers in. I have take a hot bath at least once a week for the entire four years that Angus and I have lived together, and usually he’s not this interested.

Before I have time to wonder whether there is something of interest to cats (and thus of horror to humans—dead mouse, live mouse, giant centipede, etc) in the tub, Ben swaggers into the bathroom and glances up at a Little Orange Butt hanging in the air over his head.

Without even pause for thought—except perhaps “Thank you, Bastet!”—Ben sat up on his haunches and smacked Angus very hard on the butt.

Well, he jumped, of course. Into the tub. Full of about four inches of water. There was a blur of orange fur and very wide eyes as he did that amazing levitation act that only cats above water can manage, tried to jump out, skidded, jumped again, skidded again, and finally managed to get out of the tub. I was very glad that I hadn’t been in it at the time, as I would probably look like I’d fought with a Cusinart. Once his paws were under him, he was gone from the bathroom faster than the human eye could follow. Somewhere in the house, as I write, there is a very wet and very embarrassed Little Orange Cat. I do not expect to see him for some time.

Ben stalked over and flopped down on the bathroom scale, which he owns. I prefer this, as it gives me an excuse not to obsess over my weight in the morning. (Well, sure, I could check, but it would upset the cat! C’mon!) He looked smug. I love him very, very much, but as Kevin frequently says “You know, your cat is kind of an asshole.”

Yes. Yes, he is.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.

This made me laugh so hard that I sounded like when a kid holds the neck of a balloon and lets the air out with a shrill squeal.

Yeah. My cat once leapt up and over the edge of the bathtub - and into a full bath. She was out again very quickly and dramatically, and streaked down the hall and out of sight, while I laughed uproariously.

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Oh dear. That's amazing.

I once had a cat come zipping into the bathroom while the tub was filling, launch into the tub without looking, let out the most amazing yowl, and do the levitation trick while trying to zoom back out. I laughed forever, pretty much.


I love Ben so hard...


Aww poor little Orange cat, bet it was so funny though!

I laughed.

I startled the cats.

Less so than ending up unexpectedly in a bath of water does, or the sounds of a beagle yowling (yes that beagle) coming from the PC speakers.

Jenny Cat has fallen into the tub and levitated out of it. Tabbi Kat has also fallen in the tub, with a confounding factor — I was in it at the time, we both survived relatively unscathed.

And Little Orange Cat was forever after referred to as Bubble Butt.

Angus is clearly a ninja in disguise.

I once ordered "krab" at a restaurant.

Safety tip: DON'T EVER DO THIS.

Krab's not that bad. It's just ground up pollock, generally.

I read this to the boy... He's still cackling. :)

I'm torn between "Aw, poor Angus!" and "Go, Ben!"

Same here, but as I am evil it is leaning more towards the latter. :)


We have a spa pool and three cats. I have, on multiple occasions, witnessed Boomer stalking Candy, in the hopes he could startle her into the pool while we were in it.

I was in the tub when Elliott did this to Sophie. Somehow, I escaped unscathed.

I'm required to ask if your cats are deliberately named after Leverage characters.

I have a wee orange cat of my own that was once overly interested in my shower and my mom shoved her in. This was about fifteen years ago and I still have scars from where she desperately ran vertically up my body and launched out of the tub. (thanks mom)