Last Modified: February 7, 1999

 Some people say cats never have to be bathed.  They say
 cats lick themselves clean.  They say cats have a special
 enzyme of some sort in their saliva that works                       _
 like new, improved Wisk - dislodging the dirt                       / )
 where it hides and whisking it away.                               ( (
                                                      A.-.A  .-""-.  ) )
 I've spent most of my life believing this           / , , \/      \/ /
 folklore.  Like most blind believers, I've         =\  t  ;=    /   /
 been able to discount all the facts to the           `--,'  .""|   /
 contrary, the kitty odors that lurk in the               || |  \\ \
 corners of the garage and dirt smudges that       jgs   ((,_|  ((,_\
 cling to the throw rug by the fireplace.

 The time comes, however, when a man must face reality: when he must look
 squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary and
 announce:  "This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in Juarez."

    _         /\_/\       When that day arrives at your house, as it has
   ( \       /   ``\      in mine, I have some advice you might consider
    ) )   __|   n n|      as you place your feline friend under your arm
   / /  /`   `'.= Y)=     and head for the bathtub:
  ( (  /        `"`}
   \ \|    \       }      Know that although the cat has the advantage of
    \ \     ),   //       quickness and lack of concern for human life,
     '._,  /'-\ ( (       you have the advantage of strength.  Capitalize
    jgs  \,,)) \,),)      on that advantage by selecting the battlefield.
                          Don't try to bathe him in an open area where he
 can force you to chase him.  Pick a very small bathroom.  If your bath-
 room is more than four feet square, I recommend that you get in the tub
 with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were about to
 take a shower.  (A simple shower curtain will not do.  A berserk cat can
 shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician can
 shift positions.)
                                                                  /)
 Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to              ((
 remove all the skin from your body.  Your advantage              ))
 here is that you are smart and know how to dress to         ,   //,
 protect yourself.  I recommend canvas overalls tucked      /,\="=/,\
 into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-        /` d   b `\
 mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face mask,         =\:.  Y  .:/=
 and a long-sleeved flak jacket.                           /'***o***'\
                                                          ( (       ) )
 Prepare everything in advance.  There is no         jgs  (,,)'-=-'(,,)
 time to go out for a towel when you have a cat
 digging a hole in your flak jacket.  Draw the water.  Make sure the
 bottle of kitty shampoo is inside the glass enclosure.  Make sure the
 towel can be reached, even if you are lying on your back in the water.

 Use the element of surprise.  Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to
 simply carry him to his supper dish.  (Cats will not usually notice your
 strange attire.  They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule.
 If he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in
 a product testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)

      ,-~-,       ,-~~~~-,    /\  /\      Once you are inside the bath-
(\   / ,-, \    ,'        ', /  ~~  \     room, speed is essential to
 \'-' /   \ \  /     _      #  <0 0 \     survival.  In a single liquid
  '--'     \ \/    .' '.    # =  Y  =/    motion, shut the bathroom door,
            \     / \   \   `#-..!.-'     step into the tub enclosure,
             \   \   \   `\ \\            slide the glass door shut, dip
              )  /  /     \ \\            the cat in the water and squirt
             / /`/ /`__     \ \\__        him with shampoo.  You have
      jgs   (____)))_)))     \__)))       begun one of the wildest 45
                                          seconds of your life.

 Cats have no handles.  Add the fact that he now has soapy fur, and the
 problem is radically compounded.  Do not expect to hold on to him for
 more than two or three seconds at a time.  When you have him, however,
 you must remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like
 crazy.  He'll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby
 rinsing himself off. (The national record for cats is three latherings,
 so don't expect too much.)                       ,___  _______  ___,
                                                    \ \`       `/ /
 Next, the cat must be dried.  Novice cat      _    /  0       0  \
 bathers always assume this part will be      ( \  =      Y      =
 the most difficult, for humans generally      ) )  \__    w    __/
 are worn out at this point and the cat is    ( (    /`+=+=o=+=+`\
 just getting really determined.  In fact,     \ \__/             \__
 the drying is simple compared to what you      \/   )           (   \
 have just been through.  That's because        /   /             \   \
 by now the cat is semipermanently              \  / /           \ \  /
 affixed to your right leg.  You simply     jgs  \/ /-._________.-\ \/
 pop the drain plug with you foot, reach        (((_)             (_)))
 for your towel and wait.  (Occasionally,
 however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your army helmet.
 If this happens, the best thing you can do is to shake him loose and to
 encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is drained from the
 tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the cat.
      ,__         __,
       | \,-"""-,/ |         In a few days the cat will relax enough to
       \.'_     _'./         be removed from your leg.  He will usually
       / <o>   <o>  \        have nothing to say for about three weeks
      |      Y      |<       and will spend a lot of time sitting with
      \   \  :  /   /        his back to you.  He might even become
jgs    '.  '-^-'  .'         psychoceramic and develop the fixed stare
        /`-------'\          of a plaster figurine.
       /    >o<   \
       |           |         You will be tempted to assume he is angry.
     .-|           |-.       This isn't usually the case.  As a rule he
    |  |  |     |  |  |      is simply plotting ways to get through your
    |  |  |     |  |  |      defenses and injure you for life the next
     \ |  |     |  | /       time you decide to give him a bath.
      )|  \     /  |(`.
    .' /\__)._.(__/_,) )     But at least now he smells a lot better.
    ""`     (_______,.'

1. Cats do what they want.
2. They rarely listen to you.
3. They're totally unpredictable.
4. They whine when they are not happy.
5. When you want to play, they want to be alone.
6. When you want to be alone, they want to play.
7. They expect you to cater to their every whim.
8. They're moody.
9. They leave hair everywhere.
10. They drive you nuts and cost an arm and a leg...

Congratulations on your purchase of a CAT Unit! This model contains the following features:

• User Friendly
• Mouse Driven
• Self Cleaning
• Energy Saving Standby Mode When Not In Use
• Self Portable Operation
• Dual Video and Audio Input
• Audio Output
• Auto Search Routines for Input Data
• Auto Search for Output Bin
• Instant Transition (2 nanoseconds) Between Standby and Full Power Mode

Production Details:

Transportation:

Installation Procedures:

Applications: At present, there are few productivity applications for CAT:

Warning Notices:

Lifetime Warranty:

Documented Problems:

• Models = Main frame, desktop and laptop models (smallest footprint in the industry). Available in 15 inch, 17 inch, and 19 inch sizes.
• Interface = Touch sensitive interface for maximum user friendliness.
• Memory = Not much. Upgrades available real soon now.
• Expected Lifetime = 15 years (although 20 years is common).
• Weight = 3-6 kilograms without optional cables.
• Speed = 3 nanoseconds search/find with self-uprighting supertwist technology.
• Color Graphics = Either paper white, monochrome (black/white), 64 grey shades, or maximum of 16 million colors with 40 terrabits of high resolution floating point pixels.
• Sound Chip octaves, digital MIDI output (MI/OU).
• Power Consumption = 250 grams protein daily (2 micrograms per second.)
• Operating Range = -30 to +45 C (-22 to +105 F)
• Vibration = 5-500 Hz, one octave/min, dwell at all resonance points.

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.

On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.

In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.

As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.

"Jim!" she harkened, "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it."

"You know where the button is." I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself!"

"I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" . . . .Pause. . . . . "C'mon, it'll only take a second."

No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies.

It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like telling Lloyd Bentsen Americans are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life.

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer.

I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs.

She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.

Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option.

Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered.

At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

If they had only known.

One day a cat dies of natural causes and goes to heaven. There he meets the Lord Himself. The Lord says to the cat "you lived a good life and if there is any way I can make your stay in Heaven more comfortable, please let Me know". The cat thinks for a moment and says "Lord, all my life I have lived with a poor family and had to sleep on a hard wooden floor." The Lord stops the cat and says "say no more" and a wonderful fluffy pillow appears.

A few days later 6 mice are killed in a tragic farming accident and go to heaven. Again there is the Lord there to great them with the same offer. The mice answer "All of our lives we have been chased. We have had to run from cats, dogs and even women with brooms. Running, running, running; we're tired of running. Do you think we could have roller skates so we don't have to run anymore?" The Lord says "say no more" and fits each mouse with beautiful new roller skates.

About a week later the Lord stops by to see the cat and finds him snoozing on the pillow. The Lord gently wakes the cat and asks him "How are things since you are here?" The cat stretches and yawns and replies "It is wonderful here. Better than I could have ever expected. And those 'Meals On Wheels' you've been sending by are theeeeeeeee best!!!"

Feedback or comments? Mail to: John Schultheis /