He was on his feet in one of his almost invisibly quick movements.  He ran under a nearby chair.  Then, looking up at me with dishplate eyes, he playfully chirped with a twitch of his tail.

Charlie seemed to have a sixth sense for when the thought of giving him a bath crosses my mind.  

Charlie zoomed across the floor, grabbing onto the carpet with his claws as he ran, as if wearing cleats on delicate grass, with such speed he became just a blur of black and white.  He reached the hall and ran up the wall on his turn, like his own personal racing track, and flew into the bedroom.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.  I can’t help but be amused by his antics.

“Charlie,” I called. “Bathtime!”

“Meow”

“Charlie…”

“MEOW!”

“Charlie!”  I walked into the bedroom to find him clawing halfway up the side of the bed.  I gently walked over to him and reached out a finger.  He sniffed then rubbed his head on my hand.  I gently gave him some scratches behind his ears and petted down his back.  Charlie started purring.

I got up and walked to the bathroom to fill the tub with warm water while grabbing some towels and cat soap. 

Charlie is hot and cold when it comes to bathtime.  Sometimes he likes to paw in the water and sometimes he wants absolutely nothing to do with it.  I don’t always know which version I’ll get.

“Charlie,” I called sweetly. “Pspspsp.”

Charlie peaked part of his head in the door of the bathroom so all I could see was one eye and barely half his face.

I gently and lovingly called for him to come in again.  He turned around so all I could see was a tail as he started to walk away.  My expression flattened.

I guess it's gonna be like that, huh?

I got up and went to go grab him, but he was already gone.

“Charlie, where’d ya go?”  I asked, looking around.  

I scanned the surroundings for signs of him but I didn’t see him anywhere.  

“Huh.”

Just then I saw something rush up to my feet!  

“AH!” 

Charlie thought it was funny to sneak attack after hiding, knowing he’d always get a reaction out of me.  He bolted into the kitchen, out of the kitchen, into the living room, around the couch, and back out towards the hall.

“This won’t get you out of bathtime, sir.”  Charlie immediately stopped, as if he understood.  He looked up, tail twitching, and jumped up onto a nearby shelf.  I scooped him off the shelf and carried him to the bathroom.  I shut the door and petted him while walking him to the tub.  His eyes went to dishplates again.

“It’s gonna be ok, sir.  You’re gonna get all clean and get lots of pets.”

I set him down on the ledge of the tub.  He seemed quite calm, surprisingly.  I grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the water.  I rang it out and gently started wiping him down.  He seemed tolerable of it today.

“See?  It’s not that bad.”  

Wow, he’s doing so well right now.

I put him in my lap and continued wiping him down and petting him.

Then, Charlie suddenly looked at the bathroom counter intently, ears perked, eyes fixed.  I glanced over to see what had his attention.  Suddenly something scurried across the counter.  I jumped in response.  I may have even audibly gasped.

Charlie started flailing, catching a claw on the shower curtain, but then slipping into the tub full of water.  He then jumped and flailed more, splashing around and catching the curtain once again, and clawing his way up.  He continued to climb until he reached the top of the rod.  He shook the water from his fur, splashing me a bit more.

With remarkable balance, he crouched on top, locked eyes on a mouse scurrying about, and jumped.  Unfortunately, while the balance can be remarkable, sometimes the jump is not so much.  Sprawling through the air, he partially missed the counter, just barely hanging on with his front paws, he tried to use his back feet to claw but slipped off and onto the floor.  He left a trail of water everywhere he went.

I couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh from watching his attempt.

While he jumped, the mouse immediately ran in the other direction, hopping from the counter, down to the toilet, and then the floor.

Which now meant I was trapped in the wet bathroom with a mouse running around the floor and a cat attempting to chase it.

I hopped up on the counter to let Charlie do his thing, but then the mouse squeezed under the door and escaped.  Charlie just stared.

“NOOOO!  Charlie, why'd you let him get away??”  I pleaded with him.

I got up and opened the door, Charlie ran out looking around.

No sign of the little guy.  We searched for a little while but didn’t see him anywhere.  Eventually, Charlie seemed to forget about it, so I moved on, too, hoping it had somehow found its way outside.

Charlie was just sitting in the living room licking himself.  I grabbed a drier towel from the disaster of a bathroom and rubbed some of the water out of his fur. He purred.

I sighed.  Well, I guess that can be his bath for now.  

Feeling tired, I walked into the kitchen to make some tea.  I grabbed a bag of Chamomile and a bottle of water.  I walked over to the cupboard and reached in for a clean mug.  I set it on the counter and screamed.

“EEEKK!!”  The little mouse jumped out of the mug and ran across the counter.  “CHARLIEEE!!!”  I yelled for him.

Charlie didn't seem to care by now.  Mostly just annoyed with the noise I was making.

The mouse ran out of the kitchen and across the carpet, surprisingly right past Charlie.  Charlie noticed and weakly half attempted to reach in the general direction of the mouse, mostly uncaring, really.

I quickly grabbed a bucket from the laundry room and headed towards the sliding glass door in the living room.  I passed Charlie who just lazily watched as I tried to open the door and guide the mouse out.  It ran back and forth.  I tried to catch it in the bucket.  It dodged every time until it finally made its way outside.  I shut the door and turned towards Charlie.

“A lot of help you were.  Sometimes I think you’ll do just anything to get out of a proper bath.  How about actually helping, huh? “  He just slowly twitched his tail, casually looking.  “No, no, just stay there.. No worries.  I handled it.  Sir.”

I went and put the bucket back in the laundry room.  When I walked back, Charlie was on the table at his food bowl asking for a snack.  

“REALLY?!? …SERIOUSLY, CHARLIE.  A snack just ran past you.”  I tried to reason with him, but.. he’s a cat.  

He seemed content with himself.

I gave him some wet food and gentle scratches on his back by his tail.  He ate his snack and then made his way over to the couch to curl up in his favorite spot on the blanket next to me.

I gently petted him while we watched TV.