Lilly meets SANTA.
Lilly -- my crazy little bluepoint princess -- got to share an experience with human children the world over today: she went and got the crap scared out of her by Santa Claus. (I did have the owner of a small puffy dog ask me if I didn't think bringing my cat to the pet store was stressful and cruel. I did not respond by asking if she didn't think her dog's haircut was cruel. Be proud of me.)
Lilly was amazingly well-behaved, despite howling down the moon while we were in the car, and did not geld the big man. She even let herself be placed on a cushion in his lap, and stayed there calmly while the photographer made much of her. The wreath around her neck, yeah, also not a problem. This is a cat I could dress up like a pumpkin without really doing anything to piss her off.
The proof:
Lilly did get agitated after her picture was taken, when technical difficulties kept us standing around for another fifteen minutes or so. She stuck her claws into my shoulder several times as she scrambled for better footing, and my back looks like hamburger now. But that's okay, because she got to meet Santa.
I just hope she didn't ask for a pony.
Lilly was amazingly well-behaved, despite howling down the moon while we were in the car, and did not geld the big man. She even let herself be placed on a cushion in his lap, and stayed there calmly while the photographer made much of her. The wreath around her neck, yeah, also not a problem. This is a cat I could dress up like a pumpkin without really doing anything to piss her off.
The proof:
Lilly did get agitated after her picture was taken, when technical difficulties kept us standing around for another fifteen minutes or so. She stuck her claws into my shoulder several times as she scrambled for better footing, and my back looks like hamburger now. But that's okay, because she got to meet Santa.
I just hope she didn't ask for a pony.