The ordeal began, as most tragedies do, with a false sense of security. Barnaby, a Golden British Shorthair of immense dignity, was snatched from his mid morning nap and plunged into the aquatic nightmare known as bath time. Held firmly by the traitor, Barnaby’s usual look of supreme confidence was replaced by a thousand yard stare of profound resignation. The ultimate indignity was not just the warm, soapy water, but the attire, a bright blue, terry cloth elephant hood. His wide, dark eyes seemed to say, My ancestors were lions on the savannah. I am wearing cartoon ears in a porcelain tub. Mistakes have been made. He was wet, he was grumpy, and he was already plotting which expensive leather item to scratch later.
If the bath was torture, the aftermath was humiliation. Barnaby was transferred to a pet drying box, the lowest point of his existence. Stripped of the glorious fluff that usually defined his silhouette, he was revealed to be shockingly small. His wet fur clung to his frame in spiky, miserable clumps, giving him the appearance of a shipwrecked urchin rather than a domestic deity. Huddled in the corner of the white machine, his expression shifted from annoyance to pure, unadulterated sadness. He looked terribly vulnerable, a damp shadow of his former self, waiting for the warm air to restore his majesty, follicle by agonizing follicle.
But then, the miracle happened. The drying cycle ended, the brushing concluded, and Barnaby expanded back into his true form. It was a glorious restoration. He was no longer a wet rat, he was a perfectly spherical orb of golden fluff. His coat was immaculate, radiating soft light. His owner, clearly eager to apologize for the previous hours of torment, adorned him with a jaunty red knit scarf featuring a small biscuit emblem a peace offering. Barnaby’s eyes were huge and sparkling again, looking upward with a mix of renewed confidence and intense expectation. He knew he looked magnificent. The bath was forgiven, provided the treats held just out of reach were delivered immediately. The King had returned to his throne.
Shannon Willis can usually be found in the company of furry friends. A passionate animal enthusiast, her work is often inspired by her deep love for cats, dogs, and the animal kingdom as a whole.
