When Mango was about three months old he was exploring on the back porch one night. Donna had intended to wash a load of clothes, so she started the water running and added the detergent. Then she went in to gather up a load and got distracted.
Sometime later we made a trip to the grocery and when we returned home I heard the most pitiful cries I have ever heard from a cat. The washer had filled with water and stopped, because Donna had left the lid up. Curious, Mango had slipped and fallen into the washer. When I found him he was hanging on to the edge of the tub and meowing desperately for help.
I fished him out of the cold, soapy water – it was November – and wrapped him in a towel. I dried him as best I could and then wrapped him in another towel and took him in the den and placed him on a heater vent to warm him up. He was shivering uncontrollably and I was worried he was hypothermic.
Of course, he dried out and warmed up after a few hours and the next day he seemed no worse for wear. We have called him Maytag ever since. He is not quite normal, and I think maybe his misadventure with a major appliance has something to do with that…