We know this not just from the fact the windows and doors are pretty much permanently open but because of the deposits of felted cat fur & mucus scattered about the place. Furballs.
For instance, just the other weekend I washed the Girls' pod cover. Furball hackings ALL over it last night. I've stepped on them in the kitchen, the lounge and the bedroom. This is not fun.
Time for action.
So, today, my mental health catch up with stuff day, I gathered up the ripper brush and the soft brush and got to work.
Lucky for me the Girls like brushing, they think it's a great lark and come running when you call "brushings". It does get them a little wild and feisty, and it's really, really hard to do Pingu when Tigger won't get out of the way.
But still, I think I got the job done.
That's Tigger's contribution on the right, less than a teaspoonful.The brushing got me all nostalgic for my girlhood. A certain weekend every spring, I can't remember how we selected which one, the pony girls would all gather at the lucerne flats with bags of brushes and out beloved ponies. We would rip and brush those beasts from shaggy-Winter coat to glossy, smooth Spring coat in an afternoon. The end of which we'd all, girls and ponies, be ankle deep in fluff.
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Our carpets look suspiciously dark both spring and fall when Cora sheds. And like you I remember fondly being ankle deep in fluff when my mare, Mira, was curry combed for spring. Happy times.
Fur balls or hair balls - blech!!!
But followed by beautiful memories from your childhood...
Thank you
Ah what fun. I have to brush the girls for a few minutes each nite pretty much all year as we don't really get winter. I mean, we do, but relatively speaking it's mild. Maliboo Kitty especially throws up furballs but also her food if she's good too much fur in her tummy. Except of course she does not like being brushed and complains and hisses and swats at me the whole time. Heh heh.
Furballs, the bane of the pet lover :)
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