I was all set to enjoy a nice lazy breakfast this morning. This plan was put on hold when I discovered Molly had decided the kitchen floor (!) would make an excellent substitute for her litter box.
Cue mopping of entire kitchen floor.
This would have been the end of my problems if she hadn't also decided to SIT in her own mess and then walk it all over the house.
Cue mopping of hallway floor.
Unfortunately I couldn't get any action shots of the actual bathing. But I can tell you it involved ineffectual grabbing, pathetic yowling and eventual defeat.
She looks hysterical to me because her fur is still only about half grown out from her last hair cut. In fact, she looks very similar to a coat my Other Half just bought.
Molly: "I hate you guys."
"You guys suck."
"I'm way too pissed off to deal with your photographic nonsense."
By the way, that's not another chinchilla behind her. It's just a look-alike cushion.
We've bathed her a few times now, so in case you're wondering, this experience did not result in any permanent mental damage (not that we'd know the difference anyway, I think she's senile).