I don’t know what kept me from photographing the action while Colby was shaving the Prof, but this is the aftermath.  Poor, poor Professor got his summer haircut.  Two summers ago Colby and I shaved him ourselves.  It didn’t turn out so well and the Prof was appropriately horrified.  Well, he was happier afterwards, and though I didn’t exactly retire my broom, things were at least marginally less fluff-tastic around the ole homestead. Last year when I figured I’d just bite the bullet and take him to the groomer to get it done right, they told me I’d have to have him sedated.  I mean, I walked in with my normally way laid back kitty who even lets my large-ish dogs nose him on a regular basis, and the guy turned into a demon-puss.  Whose cat was this??  We got by without shaving him that year, but then again, we were busy… This year I’ve turned into a 100% domestic lady- an unwed housewife, even!  The hair: it is the bane of my existence… along with the fleas (and cockroaches who, although they have nothing to do with this story must be mentioned because they are really even worse than all the hair and fleas in the whole world put together).  So it was that Colby and I decided to shave the Prof and Toolie whose hair is a lot longer than Lona’s who we left out of the shaving party. I sent Colby to the vet to get some kitty sedatives.  I figured, heck, if we’re going to pay for them, we might as well shave the dang cat ourselves, right?  The vet told him that they use phenylbarbitol (sp??), an anti-seizure medication.  She also said it has about a 50/ 50 rate of, uh, making a cat either crazy or sedate.  She likened it to how when you drink, and sometimes you pass out… aaaaand sometimes you go bat-shit crazy.  Guess what kind of cat we have.  Go ahead. Colby gave him a pill a few weeks ago and I came into the living room to find the Professor wrapped around Colby’s pant leg making love to his ankle.  This is, um, not typical behavior.  A bit later, with the reasoning of, “at least he’s high right now”, Colby and our friend Chip decided to have a go at the shearing.  This didn’t just not go over well, Big P was having NONE of it.  So they got the scissors since they figured he hates the clippers so much and gave him such a sad haircut that a friend came over a few days later and lamentingly commented, “Oooh, he’s got the mange”.  She was dead serious. Fast forward a week, after I finally sucked it up and opened up a vein for some professional pet clippers.  Well, I’m here to report that I have NEVER heard noises like that come out of a cat in my life.  You would have though we were seriously brutalizing this poor feline.  Slowly killing him, say, with scalding oil drip by slow drip.  Naw, just giving him a HAIRCUT! Anyways, the amount of hair was UNREAL.  We shaved Toolie next, who before receiving treats, reacted about the same and then relaxed into it. If you could read Prof’s mind, I believe here he was thinking, “You bastards!”: PERHAPS without all this hair we’ll actually have a little less fuzz.  Perhaps. Oh, and lastly!  Note Toolbox’s light undercoat!  She is half Husky after all, so here you can see how shearing off the top layer of black-tipped fur has given way to the white undercoat: I keep looking outside going, where’d that dog come fr- oh.  She looks like she’s got her head on the wrong body!! The animals seem to be scratching less from fleas.  I’ve been calling it the war of the roaches over here, but more accurately it’s just war of the bugs.  2 yard sprays, 2 house sprays, 2 under-house bombings, 400 roach motels, and multiple pills, sprays and dips administered to the animals, we are slowly making a dent in this battle. Hooray Texas?!

I don’t know what kept me from photographing the action while Colby was shaving the Prof, but this is the aftermath.  Poor, poor Professor got his summer haircut.  Two summers ago Colby and I shaved him ourselves.  It didn’t turn out so well and the Prof was appropriately horrified.  Well, he was happier afterwards, and though I didn’t exactly retire my broom, things were at least marginally less fluff-tastic around the ole homestead.

Last year when I figured I’d just bite the bullet and take him to the groomer to get it done right, they told me I’d have to have him sedated.  I mean, I walked in with my normally way laid back kitty who even lets my large-ish dogs nose him on a regular basis, and the guy turned into a demon-puss.  Whose cat was this??  We got by without shaving him that year, but then again, we were busy…

This year I’ve turned into a 100% domestic lady- an unwed housewife, even!  The hair: it is the bane of my existence… along with the fleas (and cockroaches who, although they have nothing to do with this story must be mentioned because they are really even worse than all the hair and fleas in the whole world put together).  So it was that Colby and I decided to shave the Prof and Toolie whose hair is a lot longer than Lona’s who we left out of the shaving party.

I sent Colby to the vet to get some kitty sedatives.  I figured, heck, if we’re going to pay for them, we might as well shave the dang cat ourselves, right?  The vet told him that they use phenylbarbitol (sp??), an anti-seizure medication.  She also said it has about a 50/ 50 rate of, uh, making a cat either crazy or sedate.  She likened it to how when you drink, and sometimes you pass out… aaaaand sometimes you go bat-shit crazy.  Guess what kind of cat we have.  Go ahead.

Colby gave him a pill a few weeks ago and I came into the living room to find the Professor wrapped around Colby’s pant leg making love to his ankle.  This is, um, not typical behavior.  A bit later, with the reasoning of, “at least he’s high right now”, Colby and our friend Chip decided to have a go at the shearing.  This didn’t just not go over well, Big P was having NONE of it.  So they got the scissors since they figured he hates the clippers so much and gave him such a sad haircut that a friend came over a few days later and lamentingly commented, “Oooh, he’s got the mange”.  She was dead serious.

Fast forward a week, after I finally sucked it up and opened up a vein for some professional pet clippers.  Well, I’m here to report that I have NEVER heard noises like that come out of a cat in my life.  You would have though we were seriously brutalizing this poor feline.  Slowly killing him, say, with scalding oil drip by slow drip.  Naw, just giving him a HAIRCUT!

Anyways, the amount of hair was UNREAL.  We shaved Toolie next, who before receiving treats, reacted about the same and then relaxed into it.

If you could read Prof’s mind, I believe here he was thinking, “You bastards!”:

PERHAPS without all this hair we’ll actually have a little less fuzz.  Perhaps.

Oh, and lastly!  Note Toolbox’s light undercoat!  She is half Husky after all, so here you can see how shearing off the top layer of black-tipped fur has given way to the white undercoat:

I keep looking outside going, where’d that dog come fr- oh.  She looks like she’s got her head on the wrong body!!

The animals seem to be scratching less from fleas.  I’ve been calling it the war of the roaches over here, but more accurately it’s just war of the bugs.  2 yard sprays, 2 house sprays, 2 under-house bombings, 400 roach motels, and multiple pills, sprays and dips administered to the animals, we are slowly making a dent in this battle.

Hooray Texas?!

Jun 23 2009

Photo

Comments (View)
blog comments powered by Disqus