This post is going to seem like I’ve jumped on the kitty-blogging bandwagon, but I haven’t. This post is really about laundry and only incidentally about cats.
After I finished doing laundry yesterday (see?), there was enough cat fur in the lint trap to make a small kitten (photo not available). I’d washed a lot of rugs and blankets and stuff the cat hangs around, but still.
It’s spring, so critters are shedding their winter fur (or long underwear in the case of Zoom’s giant feline). Bazel (my cat) has also been doing a lot of wretching the last week or so, but since I very cleverly give him regular doses of furball dissolver, he hasn’t hacked up anything too disgusting.
Nevertheless, I figured I’d better start brushing him. Cats love it, they tell me. They don’t know Bazel. Bazel doesn’t love anything that involves touching him – no petting, no stroking, no cuddling. As far as he’s concerned, I only exist to feed him and to give him nice fleshy bits to attack.
Anyway, the brushing wasn’t a big success. I had to wait until he was snoozing and sneak up on him. As soon as the brush appeared he was on me. But with some diligence and many hours, I did manage to thin him out a bit.