Catdog is now Ratdog.
It’s a real shame for the wee pooch because her attractive appearance (barring the soulless eyes) was one of her best features. Up until yesterday, she could have been the missing identical twin of Tintin’s Snowy. She doesn’t realise it yet, but she’s now lost all the benefits of cute privilege. People will now assume the worst when they see her: at risk of being barked at, bitten, crapped on, infected with rabies, you name it.
The problem is her fur. The Frankenstein combo of poodle and (alleged) golden retriever has made fur that doesn’t shed but also mats horribly. She was groomed in the middle of December along with Goofy, but whereas the latter still looks sleek and elegant, all the joyful gambolling in bodies of water has resulted in felting of the hair strands. This is a photo from halfway through her emergency groom yesterday.
We did our best with brushing, honest, but the matting comes on so fast and is so widespread that we just had to throw in the towel and shave her. Due to the unseasonal coldness of the weather, we’re now in the invidious position of having to dig out Ruby’s old collection of jerseys to keep Ratdog warm.
Lesson learned: no more cute and fluffy; severe and sensible hairstyles are here to stay.
Ratdog isn’t the only pet in the extended family that is facing tough new realities. My brother’s kittens are being joined by another sibling, but this one is different:
Her name is currently Ruby or Poppy and I’m told she has a disconcertingly wonderful temperament, especially for a rescue.
…….
Update: It’s definitely Poppy, and she is a certified sweetie.