Pragmatist
Pragmatist

KK got his nails trimmed.  It was not his idea.  No how.  No way.

Megan came over Friday to do the job.  She wrapped him snugly in a large, heavy towel, all the time crooning to him.  That part wasn't so bad.  At least the alarm bells hadn't started ringing.  However....

The first clip began the struggle.  Ever hear the Siamese squall?  We did.  His tail was slashing back and forth.  He was struggling to get out of the binding.  And he did manage to get one leg out.  But that got wrapped up pretty quickly.  But the struggle was just beginning.

Growl.  Hiss. Squall.  Spit.  Repeat.  And the while trying to get out of the confinement.  I had to grab his head because he was absolutely bent on trying to bite Megan.  Now this cat weighs less than ten pounds.  He's still technically a kitten, but he's probably reached his mature size, or close to it.  His parents are both smaller than the standard Siamese, so I think he won't be a very big cat, ever.  He's long and lean, very muscular, a very nice representation of what a Siamese is supposed to look like.  I was holding his head so he couldn't bite Megan, and let me tell you, it wasn't easy.   Where does that strength come from in that small package?  And the language!!!

We finally got the job done--with me holding tightly and Megan clipping away.  When he was released he looked us both over with such an indignant snarl!  Megan tried to catch him and soothe him, but KK was having none of that.  For the rest of the day he was One Mad Cat, and wouldn't even come near me until goodies time, later that evening.  

KK is having trouble clinging to the backs of chairs, his launching point to the windowsill.  One of his favorite resting places is on the back of my recliner, and he was having to scrabble a bit to stay there if I moved around a bit.  But that will change as soon as the nails grow a little and develop points again.  But in the meantime, I'm hoping some of my scars will have time to heal.

I AM A BATHTUB

Cats are clean animals.  Several times during the day I see KK and Banshee attending to certain spots.  Preening and smoothing.  But for a real honest-to-goodness clean-up, they settle on my lap.  Especially when I'm about to take a little snooze in my recliner.  They seem to know, especially KK, when I'm going to settle down for awhile, and that's the signal for a BATH.  A thorough nose to tail wash-up.  On my lap.

I wonder why Banshee doesn't have trouble with fur balls?  He's a short-hair, but constantly shedding.  All year round.  Constantly.  If he's shedding that much hair, surely he's ingesting a lot of it when he cleaning himself.  Don't ever wear dark colored clothes if you come to visit me.  His hair is everywhere.  Of course dark clothes make a nice contrast for all that white fur.

Shalom