Cleaning the Cat

It may be a bit early for spring cleaning but I started this morning by butchering my cat. It happened with a brush, a pair of scissors and some shampoo... A deadly combination.

Now, my cat has not had an easy life. She came to us when we lived on our property in Washington. She was about 2 months old and was dropped off by some uncaring, unfeeling human being onto the side of the road and was subsequently treed by a Jack Russell terror. I say "terror" and not "terrier" because when you are a two month old kitten that's exactly what a Jack Russell is to you. (Nowadays Snickers could take down a Jack Russell like a pest control could take down a fly with 5 gallons of bug spray and a swatter.... If only she had the energy...)

The neighbor who owned the Jack Russell approached my parents one morning with this kitten and stated that, "Because you guys have so many animals already, I thought of you first. What's one more?" My parents were not happy to say the least. We already owned one dog, one cat, one turtle, two birds, nine rabbits and an assortment of fish. (Thanks to me.)

So we left the little kitten to spend the night up our willow tree.

I felt desperately sorry for her and the next morning I sat in the driveway, ate a Snickers ice cream bar, and sang "Do Your Ears Hang Low" (when my mouth wasn't full). I was at "like a Continental Soldier", when something crashed into my lap. At first I thought I'd been hit by a motor boat but it was just her. I named her Snickers (because of the ice cream bar).

Once you feed AND name a cat, it tends to stay. We never locked her up but she stayed, even when Dad ran over her tail with the car and she hid down a wild-rabbit hole for 2 days. She even stayed when we moved to an apartment and she had to live at my aunt and uncle's with 9 other cats. (Well, we thought for awhile that she didn't stay; she disappeared for 2 weeks. But as soon as I went to the edge of the woods and sang she came running, skin and bones.) She stayed when we sneaked her into the apartment and took her out on walks with a leash. She even pretended to enjoy it.

Then she endured riding in a moving van for 22 hours, with her on my lap and my bird on my shoulder.

However, since we moved to Nevada, Snickers has become Mrs. Howard Hughes. She may be a genius but she's a top-order recluse. During the summer we get her shaved to keep her cool and comfortable but in the winter time....

Weeell this morning she looked something like this:

Yes, that is dandruff and matted fur, no we are not cat abusers and yes, it IS gross.
After much yowling, screaming, scratching, hissing, and bleeding (on my part), she looks something like this:

There's still work to do but it IS an improvement. Despite her wet fur and a very annoyed expression, who knew a butchered animal could look so pretty?