shaving my kitty (safe for work)
2008-Nov-11, Tuesday 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mellowtiggerT'Reese is named after her fur color which is brown and black like Reese's peanut butter cups. If she were male, she would've been named Reese. Since female, though, she became T'Reese instead. (In English, Terese is a female name, similar to Mother Teresa.)
Her fur is a medium-longhair coat. It's long enough to mat into blocks, and it does so in places where she has trouble grooming herself. She tends to get them around her neck, along her spine, and at her rear end. I first started shaving her with an electric razor a few years ago, trying to get rid of the fur mats. I discovered afterwards, though, that she had a dramatic reduction in hairballs coughed up on the floor too. Less fur, less furball. It makes sense in hindsight.
She's none too happy about the process. Her occasional hissing and growling attests to the terrible affront to her dignity that I impose. I put on shorts and then sit on the tile floor with her draped over my leg for easy access to her body. I lift lightly on her scruff for a few seconds if she gets too rambunctious. The most difficult area to shave is her rump. She crouches down on her hind legs, and she pulls her tail in tight. I wish I had a way to gas her long enough to keep her unconscious for just 60 seconds. That's all the time I need to shave the mats out of her behind, but it drags on to take many minutes while she's awake.
After it's all finally over, though, she doesn't even run away to hide any more. She escapes the bathroom and then stands outside the door to watch me collect up all the bits of fur on the floor and throw them into the trash. She does groom herself right away, collecting more strands of hair into her stomach. After one last hairball coughed up, though, she'll be good for several months. Until it's time for her next shave.
Her fur is a medium-longhair coat. It's long enough to mat into blocks, and it does so in places where she has trouble grooming herself. She tends to get them around her neck, along her spine, and at her rear end. I first started shaving her with an electric razor a few years ago, trying to get rid of the fur mats. I discovered afterwards, though, that she had a dramatic reduction in hairballs coughed up on the floor too. Less fur, less furball. It makes sense in hindsight.
She's none too happy about the process. Her occasional hissing and growling attests to the terrible affront to her dignity that I impose. I put on shorts and then sit on the tile floor with her draped over my leg for easy access to her body. I lift lightly on her scruff for a few seconds if she gets too rambunctious. The most difficult area to shave is her rump. She crouches down on her hind legs, and she pulls her tail in tight. I wish I had a way to gas her long enough to keep her unconscious for just 60 seconds. That's all the time I need to shave the mats out of her behind, but it drags on to take many minutes while she's awake.
After it's all finally over, though, she doesn't even run away to hide any more. She escapes the bathroom and then stands outside the door to watch me collect up all the bits of fur on the floor and throw them into the trash. She does groom herself right away, collecting more strands of hair into her stomach. After one last hairball coughed up, though, she'll be good for several months. Until it's time for her next shave.