Cinja

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For others, read on to see why you, well, just read along...

So, one of our cats came home pink...

"Um... Cinja, why are you pink?"
no reply
"What did you get into!?"
"meow"
"Kitty!"
"Crap!"
Should I call the vet?
It looks like sidewalk chalk.
It might be something else, though.
Should I give you a bath?
"Crap."

I take her upstairs, not letting the kids see her, and put a few inches of warm, but not too warm, water in the tub. I grab her by her scruff and gentle plop her in.

She IS NOT HAPPY. Constant yowling, saucer pupils, legs are spread eagle... yet she doesn't try to scratch or bite me. Thank the Lord on High.
Jacob knocks on the door... "Mommy, what are you doing to Cinja?"
Crap.
"Nothing, honey, go back down stairs, please."
thudump, thudump, thudump
I wet her down. Have you ever smelled a cat during it's first bath in 10 years?
Holymoleyyuckgrossohmygoodessthiscatneedsabathbarf
I soak her, use a touch of the kids shampoo and soap up the pink parts.
What if this is some inert poison... inert until you wet it, that is?
"CRAP!"
I rinse her off as quickly as I can and put her down on a towel on the floor. With another towel I begin rubbing her down, rubbing pretty vigorously to dry her and get the pink off her fur.
I open the bathroom door and she stumbles into the hallway.
I think she's a little shaken up from all the rubbing.
THEN SHE FALLS OVER AND STARTS SEIZING!
All four legs straight out, toes spread apart, head and neck bent back as far they will go...
OH DEAR GOD, NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE!? CINJA, PLEASE DON'T DIE!! PLEASE! PLEASE!
I'm terrified the kids are going to come up and see her, so I cover her body, but not her head. That would have just been too "dead".
"Dear Lord, please don't let my Cinjy die!"
She quits seizing and just lays their, totally still. Her eyes are open, pupils dialated 100%.
"CRAP! CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!!!"
I pick her up with the towel, and pace around the hallway wondering if I should call the vet. Is it too late? Is she even breathing? The kids are going to freak. What do I do?

I put her back down.
She closes her eyes.
She lies still.

She opens her eyes.
She gets up.
Walks... no, saunters into Janie's room.
Sits down, starts licking her nether regions and then looks up to me like...
"What the hell was that!?"

I knelt down and rubbed her cheeks, she loves having her cheeks rubbed.
"I'm sorry, Kitty."

Cinja is 17 years old.
Weighs about 7lbs.
I was sure I had killed her.

Seems she doesn't like baths.