cats and water Do Not Mix

The inimitable ursulav is at it again.

Which reminds me once more of my dear Siamese Sam, my teenage cat.

At the time, we lived in a two story house with a basement. The stairs were freestanding, in that one could walk all the way around them in both the basement and on the first floor. There was a bathroom at the head of the stairs on the second floor.

One of Sam's favorite exercises was to run circles around the stairs in the basement, then galumph up the stairs to run circles around them on the first floor, then up the second flight where she would dash into the bathroom and leap on the back of the toilet, where we kept a cup of water for her to rehydrate after her exertions.

Well, one time I left the toilet lid up.

Thump, thump, thump came Sam up the stairs.
Thump, thump, thump, SPLASH.
At that point ensued the most horrific spate of cursing in Siamese Cat that I have ever heard. I dashed into the bathroom, and there she was, sitting on the toilet tank, her entire hind end soaking wet.
I could not help myself. I laughed so hard I cried.
If looks could kill I would not be sitting her writing this today.
It took her weeks to forgive me for that.