Dweezil is 1/2 Maine Coon Cat and he sheds enough hair to make two or three cats. So last year I decided to have him shaved. I thought the whole thing through and decided the vet's office would be just the perfect place. So off the Dweeze and I went. He was weighed, given a tranquilizing shot and we waited for the groomer.
We sat in the work room of the office for about 20 minutes or so, when in walked Marge Simpson's sister. I kid you not.
"So where's da cat," she croaked in a voice that had seen one too many cigarettes.
"He's right here," I answered getting more nervous by the minute.
"Great, bring him in the grooming room and put him on the table."
I did and she slapped on a pair of rubber gloves and fishing around in the drawer, brought out a pair of serious looking clippers.
"Actually, I stammered,"he's an outside cat and he needs his ...."
"Nonsense," she muttered and began cutting off his claws.
Now the tranquilizer shot must not have been very strong, because Dweezil immediately woke up and started fighting.
"Oh a biter," she commented, "hold down his head."
Well what could I do. She finished up the clipping and brought out the shaver and attached what I assumed was the correct head. Disregarding me and Mr. Dweeze, she immediately started shaving. In response, Dweeze Intensified his fighting and trying to bite. There was a pause in the action.
"OK, Mr Biter, I have just the thing for you. He won't behave, well now he's wearing the mask. " She reaches into the drawer and pulls out a cat sized leather mask with two small breathing holes and straps it on him.
Dweezil is now hysterical. He's panting and sweating while she's shaving away. In the middle of shaving his stomach, she looks up and says and I quote, "How about his privates? Do you want me to shave his privates? His privates really aught to be shaved."
She's rolling the word, privates in her mouth, like it's her word for the day and she just loves it.
"No," I squeak. "Let's just leave that area alone, shall we."
"But privates is part of package."
All I want to do is grab my cat and run for it. But somehow we get through the rest of it and the Dweeze looks wonderful.
For two days after this, Dweeze followed me around and I could almost hear him saying, "I'll be good. I won't kill birds and leave half eaten mice on the deck. Just don't make me do that again.
Well, unfortunately we are doing it again. I'll keep you all updated.