MSI Press Blog

Most cats are self-cleaning marvels. Their tongues are tiny scrub brushes, and their grooming rituals are Olympic-level. But every so often, life throws a curveball—mud, fleas, sticky messes, or medical needs—and suddenly, bath time becomes unavoidable. Let’s break down the why, how, when, and how often of bathing cats, plus a few ninja tricks to keep everyone sane. 🐱 Why Bathe a Cat? Emergency messes: Oil, paint, or toxic substances that can’t be licked off safely. Medical needs: Flea treatments, skin conditions, or vet-directed hygiene. Long-haired breeds: Sometimes grooming alone isn’t enough to prevent mats. Senior or ill cats: They may lose the ability to groom effectively. 🕒 When & How Often? Regular baths? Not usually necessary. Most healthy cats never need a routine bath. Occasional baths: Long-haired cats or those with medical issues may benefit every few months. Emergency baths: As needed—when self-cleaning isn’t safe or effective. 🛁 How to Bathe a Cat ...

  Wooper (above) and Bobolink (below), earthquake-proof cats We (three adult humans and eight cats of various ages) live on a hill right on top of the San Andreas Fault, which has been busier than usual lately: three quakes 2.5-3.4 on Thanksgiving Day and the same on Black Friday. Black Friday's early morning earthquake beat the alarm clock by a few minutes and shook us awake. We cleared the sleep from our eyes and looked over to see the cats either still sleeping or yawning in wake-up attempts as the sun began filtering through the windows. That is not what I often read about cats and quakes. Supposedly (though no scientific proof exits), their behavioral changes can tip off humans to pending quakes. Well, no warnings from our eight. So, what is wrong (or right) with our cats? What cats can do during quakes: Dash under beds or into closets 🏃‍⬛ Meow loudly or yowl in distress 😿 Freeze in place, ears back, eyes wide 👀 Attempt to escape outdoors 🚪 Cluster together for rea...

  Moo, unsure about the greater world  Pest control came out and confirmed what we suspected—our house is hosting a full-blown rodent convention. Mice in the walls. One rat. And eight cats… who are absolutely scandalized. These are street rescues. Survivors. Cats who once knew the wild. But when a real mouse scurries across the floor? They freeze. They flee. They look at me like, “You expect us to handle that?” Except for Moo. Moo is the Uncat. Moo doesn’t cuddle. Moo doesn’t play. Moo doesn’t socialize. But Moo does patrol the catio and adjacent room with surgical precision. No fuss. No hesitation. One swift zap, and the mouse is history. That space is his domain, and he keeps it rodent-free. Try to bring Moo into the rest of the house, though? He wails. He trembles. He pleads to return to his post. Moo is a specialist. A one-room legend. Meanwhile, the other cats? They adore toy mice. Plush ones, crinkly ones, feathered ones. They bat them across the floor with glee. T...