On the subject of feline bathing, bacon products, and salons

On the subject of feline bathing, bacon products, and salons

Sometimes I wake up from an otherwise perfectly sound sleep with the oddest ideas. Take this morning, for example. I lay there in the dark at just before 3 a.m. wondering just why I had awoken. I was just about to drift off back into blissful slumber, when I heard it.


My orange tabby, Marari, was rather noisily taking an early morning bath right next to my head. I don't know what trouble he got himself into in the middle of the night that he felt required some extreme cleaning, but he was really going at it.


At first, still halfway asleep, I thought the noise presaged the wet, hairy, unwelcome arrival of a hairball upon the clean sheets I had just put on the bed the night before. My two cats are quite healthy, but they seem to have a terrible allergic reaction when it comes to two things: 1. clean bedding, and 2. clean laundry. I don't know what it is about clean laundry that seems to necessitate an immediate purge of the feline stomach of unwanted hair they have ingested while bathing, but it has happened enough times to make me suspicious.

Yes, I'm afraid that more than once, I have been awakened from a sound sleep by the awful HURRRRP HURRRRRP that signals another hairy, steaming present is about to be bestowed upon the world.

That isn't the kind of thought one can have and stay half asleep, so of course I instantly sat up in bed and turned the light on.

Marari stopped schlupping just long enough to look at me with a questioning, irritated glance, as if to say, "Do you MIND? I'm taking a bath." A second later he went right back to it with a fervor that raised my eyebrows.


"What have you been up to?" I said suspiciously. (Why yes, I talk to my cats. Do you have a problem with that?)

Marari shrugged (And yes, cats can shrug! At least, mine do. I don't know about yours) and murmured a noncommittal reply as he continued to soak his already dripping paw and rub it frantically over his ears.


I stared at him for a few more seconds and then irritatingly turned the light off to go back to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. The schlupping was winning. It was like the dreadful sloppy, wet toll of a persistent bell.


I sighed and turned over, trying to get away from the noise, and stuffed a pillow over my head.

Gratefully, sleep beckoned. Just before I drifted off, however, this crazy mind of mine twitched with another idea that escaped from my sleep-fogged brain. I'm sure glad, I thought, that I don't have to do it that way. Most of the time I'm not consciously grateful for opposable thumbs, but that's one activity that elicits from me a grateful prayer of thanks.

On the other hand, I thought, it has of course been said that necessity is the mother of invention. If we had to lick ourselves clean, shampoo and soap would have flavors. Mothers could never be able to threaten washing one's mouth out with soap for slips of the tongue. Ladies' shampoo would of course be all kinds of fruity flavors like fluffy tangerine or toasted coconut.

Guy's shampoo, though. Guy's shampoo would have to be manly flavors. Like beer. Chocolate stout. Primeval porter. Or meat products. Greasy cheeseburger. Porterhouse steak. Or... and the thought caused me to sit up in bed, wide eyed... BACON!

YES! BACON SHAMPOO! I turned the light back on, jumped out of bed—which got me another dirty look from the cat—and ran into my office to write this brilliant idea down. Surely I would make millions. But no. A quick Google search led me to PorkKleen Bacon Scented Hand Sanitizer, presented by a cute little blog by the name of "A Little Bacon: Making Life Delicious."

So sad. Someone else beat me to it. If there's bacon hand sanitizer, surely bacon shampoo has already been invented. There go my dreams of being the next multi-millionaire bacon shampoo magnate. ThinkGeek has a huge collection of bacon-related items for sale, everything from the aforementioned bacon hand sanitizer to Bacon Jellybeans, Bacon Popcorn, and even Bacon Frosting (shudder).

Another glance at the Google search turned up a song called "Savoury Bacon Shampoo" by a band called Idiots of Idiocy (I.O.I.). It sounds about as you'd expect a song about savoury bacon shampoo to sound.

Doing one's hair in the morning would be an interesting process if we had to lick it into place. Can you imagine a couple of ladies going to get their hair styled? They'd never be able to get any talking done.

"So I said, I said Margaret (SCHLUPPP SCHLLUP SHLEPP SCHLUP) that you'd never find me (SCHLUP SCHLUPP SCHLUP) talking behind someone's back like that (SCHLUPP SCHLUP SCHLUP lick lick SCHLUP). I mean, the nerve of that (SCHLURRP) woman. Hold still, let me get your bangs (SCHLUURRRP)"

On the other hand, you'd never have to use any product to keep your hair in place. Cowlicks would be a source of pride. That bit of hair that always sticks up in the back? A sign of due dilligence in one's bathing habits.

Ah, well. Sighing over my quickly dissolving dreams of releasing the next great bacon single that would get tons of radio play, I trudged back to bed. Marari, now finished with his emergency 3 am bath, was snoring. It was an improvement.

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