Feb 17 2003
Cats & water
It is a truth universally acknowledged that cats dislike water. Rarely, if ever, do you see a cat jumping off the rope swing at the swimming hole, or setting a new record for swimming the Channel, or cluttering up what little beach space is available on the Riviera. The only baths they like to take are sun baths, and they are pretty much unparalleled in their ability to sit in the sun for extended periods of time. Their fur makes them immune to skin cancer and wrinkles, so really, they have no motivation to cut their sun baths short or reduce them to utilitarian sun showers (“I’ll just get my fur warmed up and then get on with day’s business of napping and playing.”). There is no sunscreen for cats.
Despite this well-known distaste for the aquatic, our cats insist on sitting in the still-wet kitchen sink after the dishes have been done, and in sitting/lounging/playing in the bathtub after the water has drained away. Sometimes they are so eager to get in the bathtub that they actually get in it while there is still some water in it, and this does not, for whatever reason, lead to their immediate ejection from the wet surface. They just watch the remaining water go down the drain as if they were watching TV.
I think they must be attracted to the heat retained in the century-old cast iron bath tub, and the heat retained in the considerably younger cast iron kitchen sink. The need for heat must outweigh the distaste for dampness, at least temporarily. I once read that cats were originally desert animals, hence their lust for heat. My sister Megan once had a cat who singed her fur by sitting too close to the space heater. The singed fur smell alerted Megan, who separated cat from heater while cat complained. About being removed from the source of the singe. Our cat Jack routinely sleeps on a part of the stove where the pilot lights make it too hot for me to comfortably rest my hand on for longer than, say, 30 seconds. Amazing.