Monday, September 24, 2007

I got cat class and I got cat style

At left is the award-winning Chantilly Lace Groucho Marks, who belongs to my super-duper cat-groomer lady, Danelle at the Catty Shack.

Mark is the only beauty-queen I've ever met personally!




I am trying to get Grand Old Man to the Catty Shack, before he barfs himself sick.

I typically have him shaved about 3-4 times a year, in what is called a "lion cut." (He never goes outside and never has, so body temp is not an issue.) He has such severe hairballs, I am sure that is how he has lived to be 13 or 14, however old he is. Whenever I let his hair grow unchecked, as I have lately, he is racked with intestinal problems and vomits hairballs daily. All the king's horses and all the king's men; all the hairball Rx solutions and hairball food-formulas by Science Diet, blah blah, do not help. If he'd eat flax seed or fenugreek, like a person, of course I could cure this. But he shows no interest in voluntarily eating these items, and I treasure my skin too much to attempt to force these on him!

Speaking of which, his claws, which he apparently never learned to sharpen correctly (maybe because he prefers mere furniture to the far superior scratching post?) are as long as hypodermics, and as comfortable, when he relaxes on your lap... When my thighs are dotted with scabs, I figure the time to get him groomed has arrived.

I inherited my beloved GOM from some neighbors who were all set to take him to the pound. A half-breed Persian/Russian Blue, I got furious that their full-bred Himalayan and Persian cats had been chosen to stay, while the half-breed kitty got the boot. Of course, I now realize the inability to train him not to scratch furniture (and by the time I got him at age 6, all hope was forever lost) was part of their antipathy, as well as his unseemly habit of frequent hairball-puking. In any event, my daughter rescued him from the feline-elitist neighbors and summarily deposited him with me--the best Christmas present I ever got.

His hair is like that now-legendary spun-fiberglass angel hair on the old Christmas trees of my childhood... all tangled-wispy and fine, a 7-pound ball of fluff. In the hair sweepstakes, there is no mistaking he takes after his Persian mama, but has the beautiful winsome face (and coloring) of the Russian Blue. He has a sweet, musical purr, and he has always preferred me to everyone else. (He knows I am the one who kept him out of the pound!)

And so, this week, unbeknownst to him, he gets another close shave! Mreeow.

6 comments:

Kim said...

Ohhhhhhhhh!
Can we see pictures of your boy?
Please?

Casdok said...

Hope it goes well!

DaisyDeadhead said...

Kim, I still don't have a digital camera! Mr Daisy, consumer geek, is busy investigating which one we oughtta get, so hopefully soon! :)
And then I will embarrass GOM showing everyone his lion cut! (example)

belledame222 said...

awwwwz!!

belledame222 said...

...can you not mix a little flaxseed into some wet food?

DaisyDeadhead said...

Belle, ha! He won't eat anything strange. Some wet food, he sneers at totally. Flax seed? We don't need no stinking flax seed!

He was a pretty good boy today, except for peeing in the cat carrier. Also, he is mad at me. :( But he is clean and shaved and smells all nice. (And those damn deadly hypodermic claws are cut!)

There were adorable cats all over Catty Shack, which also shares space with the Kitten Action Team! It was like feline heaven in there! :)