We have a window in our bathroom, over the bathtub and opposite the shower head. It's quite possibly our bathroom's only redeeming feature (actually, it's more than quite possible - it is), and it makes for a pleasant shower on these summer mornings because there's usually some cool left over nighttime air making its way in.
It's also a regular stop for a certain black and grey stripey feline when he does his rounds about the house. He has a particular technique whereby he'll run through the bathroom door at full tilt then make a leap from the floor to the windowsill without landing a paw on the edge of the tub. He seems to think he's pretty slick when he does this.
He applied his particular technique this morning, but what he didn't stop to work out was that yours truly was already in the shower. No sooner did his feet hit the windowsill than he realised that a) he was getting wet - which he only likes to do under highly contolled circumstances that involve Daniel and a tub full of water, and b) he was not alone.
Panic ensued, and a flurry of fur and whiskers propelled itself, somewhat innaccurately as it happens, back from whence it came. I looked around the shower curtain to see one rather upset cat do a header into the edge of the toilet. A quick shake of the head and a scrabble of paws, and he was gone without a trace...
Poor boy! He didn't hurt himself, but he did look rather embarrassed when I checked on him. Whoever said that cats are elegant creatures hasn't met our Dobie!
Oh dear! Poor Dobie :)
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