Okay, first of all, there were three - THREE! - hummingbirds at my feeder when I got home from work tonight. There's never more than one, because the little sh*ts like to attack each other, but maybe due to the heavy rains today, the lions were lying down with the lambs, and three hummingbirds managed to co-exist at my feeder.
Then, Tinks came in, with a hitch in his giddyup. When I took a look to see what was wrong, it was apparent that there was something stuck in his fur. Something ... stick-like. And prickly. It looked like sections of a rose-bush branch. A BIG rose-bush branch.
THANK YOU, people in the neighborhood who dump their lawn clippings in the park next to my house. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
Here is Tinks, in calmer times:
Pretty, yes? And VERY long-haired. And strong. And not fond AT ALL of being handled against his will.
And he had two big chunks of thorny rose-bush-branch-clipping tangled in that belly fur.
Oh lord. Have you ever wished yourself away? Wished you could be anywhere else other than where you were?
Yeah.
I manned up.
I grabbed the scissors, and a big towel, and my leather gloves, and a bowl of smelly ol' cat food, and me and Tinks went into the bedroom.
There was growling. There was biting. There was struggling and flailing and sweating and cursing and in the end
We both walked out, victorious. Me because I had removed those nasty-a** rose bush clippings from Tinks' fur, and Tinks because he was no longer vexed by nasty, thorny branches stuck in his belly fur.
Welcome to Friday, chez Rockycat.
2 comments:
That sounds awful for both of you. You have guts. You also have more shoes than any human can wear in a lifetime.
I've done a lot of things over the years because I had to. Because there was no one else to do it. Sucks, but builds character or something. I dunno.
And you should be a detective, Ginny. At first, I was like, "How on earth does she know how many SHOES I have?"
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