The shave from hell and a new scratcher

You guessed it – it was grooming time again. Time for them to steal my royal floof and leave me looking like a freshly shorn lamb.

OK, so looking like a lamb isn’t all bad, after all, they’re kinda cute. And I do feel super-light and bouncy after a shave, but I sure don’t like going.

This time mum took me to one of the groomers I’d been to before, but not her favoured one. Still, this guy was ‘good’ and as it was just me going, mum said to the vets (where he works) that she’d wait in reception for me, since I’d only be 40 minutes or so.

They got her a glass of water and she sat and made herself comfortable.

I, meanwhile, was taken off and put onto the cold metal grooming table. Then the nightmare began.

The first part was just fine and dandy. You know, the part where they start off on your back and sides. Yeah, I got this, it actually feels quite good feeling the heavy fur fall off and the funny vibration of the clippers made me giggle because it tickled.

But then he wanted to do my paws.

Now I’m no fan of having my paws grabbed, especially my back paws. I don’t mind when mum strokes them and holds them – I make mini-biscuits on her hand sometimes (I think she likes that too). But when my first paw was grabbed and stretched, I yelped and hissed. He carried on. Hey fella, I hissed, that means STOP!

But no, he carried on, so I squealed again and whined and hissed. He paused. Ha! Result, he was stopping. But no, in came another lady to help with this indignity!

Well, I was having none of it. Suddenly I screamed in pain – he grabbed my back paw and stretched it out – that hurt! As many of you know, I hurt my spine in a fall a couple of years ago and so when my tail is lifted in a certain way or my back legs pulled, it’s mighty uncomfortable.

My tail was being pulled up, my back legs out like a chicken and then I was help up high for them to do my tummy.

I screamed again, and this time mum came rushing in.

I heard her saviour voice; “it’s OK Momo, it’s mummy”. Oh mum, thank goodness, please get me out of here. She came up to me and slightly admonished the two fur-stealers. She came up to me and I almost jumped into her arms and buried my face in her tummy. Hide me, take me home, now!

She soothed and stroked and held me close. Now what you may not realise is that I hate to be picked up, so this position and act was a total surprise to both mum and me.

But mum didn’t take me away. She just held me gently on the grooming table and told the man that SHE would hold me and help. Ah, OK, well I guess that’s a bit better then. Mum was talking gently to me and holding me in a much better way, but I still whined and squirmed.

Still, the ordeal was over before too long and mum’s voice was finally telling me what a good girl I’d been and how she was taking me home for treats. Yay – I love treats, maybe I’ll get chicken. Yum!

As we were paying (though I still couldn’t figure out why she would pay money for that experience – humans are funny sometimes), I heard this big ‘thing’ being bandied around and carried out to the car. Wow, what was she buying now, a jumbo bag of food?

We finally got home, and I got my chicken and brushes and strokes and told again how good I’d been and it was then that she said she’d got me a new present.

Oooh woweee, what did I get mum?

Then she put it down where our small worn-out scratchers had been. I sniffed and explored. This thing was big. I mean really big. Then I got the measure of it and climbed up. Oh my! I had a giant scratcher! This new one was all ready for my claws and I rubbed my cheeks over it to claim it straight away.

I just love my new scratcher and because it’s big, I’m happy to share it with my sisfurs – though they do understand that it’s really mine.

As for the groomers… the memory is long gone; until the next time. I wonder what I’ll get next?

Till next time, 

Moet xx

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