Mom never took care of long-haired cats before I came to live with her. Part of caring for me involves combing my fur. She had to do it yesterday because I had a mat develop at my shoulders.
I don't like being combed and having these things removed. It tugs. It pulls. It can hurt. Sometimes, mom has to hold me down if I refuse to be combed and the mat gets too big. This one wasn't and it came out with the first pass of the comb.
Still, I don't like it.
Mom's been letting us come out onto the deck when she gets home from work. It's been really nice outside. She crochets while we wander about. I like to sit on the deck railing.
Okay. I guess that combing does make me look good. I'm practicing "staring off into the backyard".
See you next week.
Pilchard