Cat Grooming 101

Okay so I wasn't sure what to title this blog without the dirty-minders having a field day, so I can only start by assuring you that I am literally speaking of grooming my little darling feline Sophia. This is an ever-present problem in my life (and hers), as the poor little thing was really just born with bad hair. She's greasy, wispy and clumpy all the time, and no amount of brushing ever seems to do the trick. She loves for people to pet her, but I'm afraid that some of her biggest fans are becoming mildly nauseated at the thought of their hand encountering one of her golf ball-sized lumps. See Exhibit A below for a before picture of the Great Lumpy One.

Exhibit A. Note that while she is in her "feeling sexy" pose (the front
paws are methodically flipping back and forth in the air), there is a distinct look of sadness and longing for a clump-free lifestyle in her eyes.

One option I've pondered would be to simply take her to the groomers and have her shaved. However, any time she leaves the house, she is greeted upon her return home with 1-2 weeks of her sister Lola following her around, all the while hitting, spitting and growling. It's quite unpleasant for everyone in the house. So I went out and bought a little cat shaver, after Ryan read my mind and positively FORBADE me to use his trimmer (hmpf). To my surprise, the sound and feel of it doesn't seem to bother Sophia at all. However, while she doesn't seem to mind it all that much, she still instinctively squirms away from me, and holding her down while trying to shave the lumps is nearly impossible.

Enter Ashley, my savior. Let me start by saying that Ashley is one of Sophia's favorite people in the whole world. Any time she enters the house, Sophia seeks her out, rubs against her, and stares at her with a reverence usually reserved for chicken-flavored treats. After last weekend, Ashley has also become one of my favorite people in the world (not that she wasn't already but this really sealed the deal). It was Monday, Memorial Day. We were all still hung over from a Sunday BBQ that got a little out of hand. The boys had band practice, which left Ashley and I nothing to do but hang out on the deck in the sun, play ladder golf, and paint our fingernails. After several hours of this behavior (and perhaps one or three beers), Ashley turns to me and says, dead-serious, "Let's shave the cat." Before she could change her mind, I rushed her upstairs and we locked ourselves in the bathroom with Sophia, a big towel, and the little shaver. About an hour later and covered with hair, we had basically given her a mohawk from the middle of her back to her ass. (see Exhibit B below). She kind of looks like Chris Farley wearing a really tight pair of booty shorts. Hopefully Ashley will be willing to spend more time locked in the bathroom shaving my cat with me, unless anyone else would like to volunteer???? :)

Exhibit B: The Ass-Hawk. I know it's not clear in the picture,
but the shadow really shows off her diminished size, followed
by the big puff where her lower-ass hair pops out.