Oh my gosh – my cat’s a diva

31 Aug

 

 

                                                                                  Ridiculously cute – my little Diva

 

Mufasa got banned from a “pet spa” yesterday.

Before you judge me – he was just there to get a bath and summer shave. I’m not rich enough to send him for actual beauty treatments (and doubt that a place like that exists in the thriving Rich Man’s Land that is the East Rand).

The “Pet Spa” is just a fancy name for a grooming parlour –  a euphemism to make you feel like your poor cat is going in for a treat when it’s actually quite the opposite, and to make you feel less guilty about not just using our own bathtub.

                                                                   Pleeeeaaaase don’t take me to Pet Spa!

 

For those of you who don’t know Mufasa – or don’t know me because I talk about him incessantly – Mufasa is  one of the loves of my life. If there is such a thing as a pet soul mate, I’ve found him in this cheeky Persian critter. I could write for ages, but since this post is about his experience at the “spa”, I’ll keep it simple and say that you’ve never seen as small a cat with as big an ego.

I should have known that there was trouble when I called to make his booking – they knew him by name.

Pet Spa Tannie: “Mufaaaaasa?”

Me: “Yes. Can I bring him for a shave?”

Pet Spa Tannie: “Gulp… I suppose… Yes… He’s been getting quite feisty the last couple of times…But fine…bring him at 10:00.”

I didn’t think anything of it – of course he’s feisty. Always has been. Much as I love Persian cats, I do get the impression they resent not being “real” cats. If Mufasa is anything to go by, I think they’d much rather not have the characteristics us Cat People prize so highly.

How bizarre it must be in the Feline community to have so much hair that you have no hope of ever cleaning it in the conventional way, and have to rely on clumsy humans to do it for you?

I’d be feisty too if I had to regularly undergo the humiliation of a bath when everyone around me can just self-service and have it done in 5 minutes flat.

As far as I’m concerned, the clawing and screeching is a justified protest, and any “pet spa” worth its salt should have the necessary rubber gloves and ear plugs. Especially, I suppose, in an environment where the poor cat is likely the only of its kind – why do so many people prefer dogs? – and has to have its bath while 10 yapping yorkies look on in amusement while having their hair blow-waved.

Calm before the claws

 

So anyway – apparently it took four grown men to hold Mufasa down for his bath, and the sounds he was making frightened the dogs. It also caused some people to hand over their pets with a marked expression of trepidation, and others to not hand them over at all.

Apparently having my little darling as a client is just not worth the injuries and lost business.

Funnily enough, I’m oddly proud of his behaviour and subsequent banning.

Mufasa may be a particularly small individual, but he has more balls and a bigger ego than anyone – cat or human – that I know.

Plus, he’s proven once again that he and I are soulmates – I too have been banned from a hairsalon for throwing a tantrum. In fact, in that very same road.

  

 

 

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