My honey is not a cat-man. He manages to make "heeere, kitty, kitty" sound sinister. I have seen stray cats streak for the hills from that wheedling call. Being cat-clueless, and a man, he thought he would make "friends" with my Archie one sunny afternoon. He tried his "kitty, kitty" call and Archie immediately hid under the front porch. Not a man to give in easily, my honey decided to "persuade" Archie to come out. He ran the garden hose under the step. It worked. Archie came out muddy, wet, and spittin' mad like only a cat can be.
Uh oh.
Man brain-cells kicked in. My honey got his first inkling that this attempt at cat-friendship would NOT GO OVER WELL with his beloved. He decided to make it better. He picked up Archie up by the scruff of her neck, and gave her a good washing down with the hose. He now had a rat-thin SHIVERING spittin' mad cat.
Uh oh.
No prob. My honey locked himself and Archie in the half-bath with the blow-dryer. He ended up with a warm, fluffy FREAKED OUT, SPITTIN' MAD cat.
Archie never recovered. I had to adopt her out shortly after.