Looks neater than Sweety Girl. Who also rules with an iron fist, BTW.
Sweety’s problem is those damn hair clumps. She shed more than Lucky did last winter.
And she has made it abundantly clear that I can approach her with a hair comb only if I’m prepared to say hello to baby Jesus very shortly thereafter.
I’ve been reduced to plucking them out with my fingers, one by one. Amazingly, she seems to tolerate that, in brief doses. In witness whereof, my fingers are all present, accounted for, attached to my hands, and still in working order as I type this. Go figure.
Stormcrow, if Sweety Girl gets hair mats, try slicing them off with one of those letter openers that has a razor embedded behind a sharp (but not too sharp) point. It’s safer than scissors because you can’t accidentally poke or slice the cat’s skin.
Fortunately, there seem to have been about half a dozen discrete clumps, each occupying maybe half a square centimeter at the base.
She’s down to two or three now.
Lucky, OTOH, is a trip.
Since I’m spending much free time working on a floor support for a 7 foot Chatsworth equipment rack (no, they were never intended for use in houses LOL), he spends quite a bit of time in his Official Hiding Place.
But when I get out the hair comb, he acts in a somewhat more dignified version of “dog contemplating car ride”. You’ve seen that one, I presume?
Oh, I have a Furminator. Have had for almost two years now.
Lucky likes it. But then, Lucky like being combed, period. Until and unless the comb hits serious tangles. And even then, he’ll tolerate the hassle for long enough for me to shift the problem by a useful amount.
Sweety … well, she hates the Furminator even more than she does the “coarse” cat hair comb I use by default. And that’s saying something.
Charles II said
Caption: “You may kneel, child.”
Stormcrow said
Looks neater than Sweety Girl. Who also rules with an iron fist, BTW.
Sweety’s problem is those damn hair clumps. She shed more than Lucky did last winter.
And she has made it abundantly clear that I can approach her with a hair comb only if I’m prepared to say hello to baby Jesus very shortly thereafter.
I’ve been reduced to plucking them out with my fingers, one by one. Amazingly, she seems to tolerate that, in brief doses. In witness whereof, my fingers are all present, accounted for, attached to my hands, and still in working order as I type this. Go figure.
So she’s now down to only two or three.
MEC said
Stormcrow, if Sweety Girl gets hair mats, try slicing them off with one of those letter openers that has a razor embedded behind a sharp (but not too sharp) point. It’s safer than scissors because you can’t accidentally poke or slice the cat’s skin.
Stormcrow said
I know the ones you mean.
I’ll give that one some serious thought.
Fortunately, there seem to have been about half a dozen discrete clumps, each occupying maybe half a square centimeter at the base.
She’s down to two or three now.
Lucky, OTOH, is a trip.
Since I’m spending much free time working on a floor support for a 7 foot Chatsworth equipment rack (no, they were never intended for use in houses LOL), he spends quite a bit of time in his Official Hiding Place.
But when I get out the hair comb, he acts in a somewhat more dignified version of “dog contemplating car ride”. You’ve seen that one, I presume?
Phoenix Woman said
If you know someone who has a FURminator, try borrowing it and see how Sweety likes it.
Stormcrow said
Oh, I have a Furminator. Have had for almost two years now.
Lucky likes it. But then, Lucky like being combed, period. Until and unless the comb hits serious tangles. And even then, he’ll tolerate the hassle for long enough for me to shift the problem by a useful amount.
Sweety … well, she hates the Furminator even more than she does the “coarse” cat hair comb I use by default. And that’s saying something.