That Darn Cat

One of my cats is 17 years old.  Sophie has always been the princess of the group, earning her stripes early on when I was still in college (she was the only roommate I could tolerate).  She has been shoved aside on her pedestal numerous times, first by Shawn, then our children, two other kitties, and two dogs.  I call her The Princess because she came from a breeder, and has always had that "nose in the air" attitude.  Her ousting has not been her choice, and each time someone new has moved in, she's been loud about her displeasure.

Over the past year she's stopped taking care of herself, and her beautiful long fur has become a tangled, knotted mess several times.  The first few times, Shawn and I carefully cut the knots away.  As the knots grew worse and her fur more tangled however, it became obvious that scissors were no longer going to solve the problem.

I looked into having her professionally groomed, but when the bill is almost quadruple what the cat weighs because they have to sedate her, Shawn and I thought, "GAME ON!"  We high-fived each other and agreed we were totally up to the challenge of shaving a 17 year old grumpy kitty.

The first time didn't go so badly.  We wrapped her up tightly in a towel and got to work.  Sure, it didn't look professional, but at least she didn't have knots anymore!  Not to mention she really didn't have much fur left and her head looked like it was floating in space.....

Last night, we got the clippers out again--and Sophie got the teeth out.  She bit me so badly that Shawn had to pry her jaw off my finger.  When I sent a picture of it to my friend Mandy this morning (who is a very smart doctor of nursing!), she replied with, "Go to the doctor.  NOW."  Really?  Over a cat bite?  Nahhhh.  But, Mandy doesn't panic, and she doesn't usually tell people to get to the doctor right away, so I kind of had to give her recommendation and panic attack some weight.  It turned into quite a hassle because my doctor is full for the rest of the week (Already?  Really?), and I had to locate an urgent care facility that accepts our insurance.  I was finally able to find one, and the looks on the nurse's and doctor's faces when I told my story was priceless.  The nurse, I'm quite sure, felt more sorry for Sophie than for me; because it is an animal bite, it has to be reported to the authorities, but she kept saying to the doctor, "Come on.  She's 17!  And she just didn't want to be groomed!  And her name is Sophie, that sounds like a sweet innocent kitty!" Cracked me up more than just a little.  Now I've had a tetanus shot, I have 2 antibiotics and a follow up for Thursday, and I have a very swollen, gross-looking, sore and stiff finger.  I think maybe next time I'll just pay to have my cat sedated and professionally groomed.

Here is Sophie's #catshaming entry:

The princess has tumbled off her pedestal.