Photo by Adam on Flickr
When a long haired cat is living in a normal house, that house will become covered in cat hair. The cat itself will not appear to have lost any fur whatsoever. In fact, the cat may appear to have grown a fuller coat.
The cat hair will appear in mysterious places, such as the pocket of a new jacket or the rim of a new margarine container. It is a fact and it will always be so.
We currently have such a cat in our household (Abby) and when the vet made a suggestion that he could shave her fur, I just babbled YES, YES, YES. Abby was already going under anesthetic anyway, so I gave the green light to the clippers and I sat back and waited for my new cat to arrive from the back.
When she came out she was groggy, vaguely unhappy, fur-free and so cute I couldn’t stand it. They shaved her fur into a lion-cut and it really suited her. Things changed around the house immediately and the cat hair ratio dropped dramatically.
Reality set in pretty quick. Fur grows back. In about 4 months she was a fur-totin,’ bad-ass cat again so I called to inquire about the shaving process. The price for just a shave was quite high since they would have to put her under again specifically to do this process. I had gotten off easy the first time because she was already going under for the other procedure.
Plan B – YouTube – How to Shave a Cat – Well, it seems the video was using a cat similar to THE HEIFER. Nice and fat, not a care in the world – this cat just laid there and let the woman shave her. She gave pointed instructions, all the while moving the lethargic cat around on the table to shave the best angles and before you knew it, her cat was shaved, the table was clean and if I remember correctly, the woman was on her way to a Yoga class down the street.
So I figured that was the way to go. Vets are lovely but what do they really know about cats? I mean, I am a dual cat owner. I am the expert here plus I have YouTube. I chuckled because I had never spent much time in University and here I was, ready to shave Abby and save myself a ton of money. I couldn’t wait.
I prepared the clippers and the kitchen counter, grabbed Abby and the procedure began. I went straight up the back with the first swipe. She looked at me but sat still because this was Mommie and Mommie is to be trusted. I did a second run up the back and a third but by this time one of us was beginning to panic and it wasn’t me. Abby started to wiggle around so I tightened up my grip a bit. She didn’t care for that and gave me a bit of a warning growl.
Hmmm. Maybe I should have clipped her nails BEFORE I started the shaving. Memo to self for next time. I continued with the clippers but by now she was outright struggling and I was just shaving anything that looked like fur. She arched her back, rolled into some kind of cheese ball, emerged under my arm and sort of crawled up my chest onto my shoulder, shedding clumps of fur that I had cut off. Perhaps I should not have worn my goin’ to town clothes complete with matching earrings.
I turned off the clippers and removed her from my body, one claw at a time. I put her back on the counter but by now, trust had flown out the window. I was using my wheedling voice at this point which drew the attention of THE HEIFER, who came down off the back of the couch to see what all the excitement was about. She came up onto the counter for a closer look and Abby, who by now was just pissed at everything, smacked her on the head. THE HEIFER smacked her right back. I’m standing there covered in freshly cut fur, these two are hosting a full-on beat down, and fur is literally flying through the air and landing everywhere.
I yelled at the two of them, put the clippers down, and both of them fled to their secret hiding places, wherever those places are. I just know they have them and maybe someday when we move I’ll find them. Bruce was on hand for the festivities and he was encouraging, telling me that I really had gotten quite a bit done on Abby before she disappeared.
I cleaned up the fur, left the clippers plugged in just in case and went on my way.
Hours later, Abby emerged and took her spot on top of the cable box in front of the TV. It is warm and therefore, it must be laid upon. That gave us a chance to observe my work. I looked at Bruce and said LOOKS LIKE SHE’S BEEN SHANKED (prison term). Bruce – YUP.
Abby seemed fine with it all but she likely slept the whole time she was hiding and she was sleeping again now on the cable box. By the way, she snores, like some kind of tiny, little troll. I’m tossing that in there because I’m still mad about this one.
So the clippers sat there on the counter, plugged in and later that same day I snagged our little warrior and took her back to the scene of the crime and started up again. She was a little wiser to the game this time but so was I. She wriggled a bit and I held her tighter so I still managed to get some more fur, from her sides this time. But it wasn’t long and her posse showed up. THE HEIFER came by in support and I stopped the show and told her to SCRAM. Reggie, who was just a few feet away in his cage, threw in with me and he started yelling SCRAM, SCRAM, SCRAM. He likes this word and uses it all the time anyway but this time it was quite apropos to the complete circus that was setting up in the kitchen.
As in every instance where our pets have been given strict orders, no one listens so THE HEIFER was still gadding about on the floor, Reggie was still fully entertained by the whole thing and had now moved on to yelling GO FOR NAPS. The clippers were still humming in my hand thus keeping Abby in a state of fight or flee, so she chose both. She rolled in tight, tied herself into some kind of bow, I jabbed at a few more pieces of fur (could have been my leg for all I knew) and then she was off like a shot.
I think we all knew that this was the end. I put the clippers down, tidied up the remaining bits of fur and whatever else I had shaved in those last moments, THE HEIFER went for her own naps, Reggie settled down to eat some peas, thoroughly content at the surprise mid-day rodeo, Bruce continued watching NASCAR, and I changed my clothes again and hucked everything into the wash.
I’ve left the clippers there, in the odd chance that one day Abby will collapse into a coma and just before I take her to the vet I will shave her. But then again, if she’s in a coma, I’ll let the vet do it. Then they’ll only charge me for the shave.