Random Note on Cats
I've got to groom my cat five million times a day to keep her from shedding everywhere. Though a good half of that groomed fur ends up on my shirt where she's sitting. So I'm sitting here, reading the LJ friends updates, grooming my cat, occasionally pulling the fur off the brush and setting it to the side so I can get enough of it to wad it up and throw it away.
Roscoe finds this grooming thing fascinating (mostly because he thinks the brush is a chew toy and just can't figure out what Ivory's thinking, letting it assault her like that without ever fighting back). So he's hopped up onto my stack of plastic boxes to watch, six inches away, paw sometimes reaching out to almost touch the brush until I twitch the wrong way and his paw vanishes. And then he notices the pile of fur. And then poof, pile of fur is gone and so is Roscoe and I'm trying to convince my cat to get off me so I can convince Liz's cat that eating Ivory's fur isn't a good idea, no matter whether it's attached to her or not. (He was licking her shoulder blades when I fed them earlier, but I think that's because he was trying to annoy her away from the food bowl because I had to give them the kinda moist stuff this morning because I forgot to buy Meow Mix last night, but got some on the way home today, and thus they were both trying to eat out of the bowl for a few seconds after I put the stuff in.) Because I'm going to be the one stuck cleaning his hairballs up.
Anyways. Wads of Ivory's fur have now been added to Roscoe's 'this is fun to chew on' list, in the mis-matched company of Liz's pens, shoe strings, and that funny slot where paper comes out of my printer. (Because, zomg, the thing makes noises! And his nose can almost fit! Zomg! (Which is probably a good translation of what he's thinking when he's gnawing on it, if overly literate.))
Roscoe finds this grooming thing fascinating (mostly because he thinks the brush is a chew toy and just can't figure out what Ivory's thinking, letting it assault her like that without ever fighting back). So he's hopped up onto my stack of plastic boxes to watch, six inches away, paw sometimes reaching out to almost touch the brush until I twitch the wrong way and his paw vanishes. And then he notices the pile of fur. And then poof, pile of fur is gone and so is Roscoe and I'm trying to convince my cat to get off me so I can convince Liz's cat that eating Ivory's fur isn't a good idea, no matter whether it's attached to her or not. (He was licking her shoulder blades when I fed them earlier, but I think that's because he was trying to annoy her away from the food bowl because I had to give them the kinda moist stuff this morning because I forgot to buy Meow Mix last night, but got some on the way home today, and thus they were both trying to eat out of the bowl for a few seconds after I put the stuff in.) Because I'm going to be the one stuck cleaning his hairballs up.
Anyways. Wads of Ivory's fur have now been added to Roscoe's 'this is fun to chew on' list, in the mis-matched company of Liz's pens, shoe strings, and that funny slot where paper comes out of my printer. (Because, zomg, the thing makes noises! And his nose can almost fit! Zomg! (Which is probably a good translation of what he's thinking when he's gnawing on it, if overly literate.))