I have a truly marvelous cat. That's not egotistical babble. It's the truth. And he's also bloody beautiful. Just look at the pic above. And you can use his tail as a duster. It's great.
So yesterday I took my young fluffy feline to Pet Stop, a tiny little pet grooming place (which also doubles as a photography studio should you have the ugly urge to have your pooch photographed) here in Pittsburgh. Now since my cat is so very fluffy and it is summer up here in the United States of Arrogance, I decided to take my cat in to have all his hair removed (insert crude metaphor here).
The lovely dame at the grooming shop refused to shave the young feline - something about how his fur keeps him cool and cats having super thin skin so he might get cut.
"But pet fur-cutting lady, my furry boy cat here is starting to mat under his belly. See?"
"Yes, but I shall simply brush those out."
"You are truly remarkable. And if I hear him yelp or scream in pain, have no doubt that I shall fly over this counter and feed your hand to your mouth."
The young puss did not get shaved. He was brushed through so that his "undercoat was thinned out" and his super large cat claws were trimmed. Good because I don't like doing that.
And to think she wanted to bathe my young fluff beast as well!
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