We need to talk, and I don’t mean you meowing incessantly at me to let you out of the house, only to instantly meow incessantly at me to let you back in the house. And it’s not even about how you’re still mad that the new couch isn’t nearly as fun to destroy as the old one (so-wee!). It’s about your fur. Or rather, it’s about your fur all over our clothes. All. The. Time.
I’m not trying to body-shame you—you’re an extra fluffy girl, and you own it like a queen. Granted, we didn’t know quite how fluffy you were going to be when we plucked you from a ditch when you were a tiny kitten. You hadn’t yet blossomed into your full goddess-like poufiness, though maybe I should have gotten an inkling when I filled in “domestic shorthair?” at your first vet appointment and the vet just laughed and laughed.
She knew. She knew that your fur would be all over everything for approximately the next 15 to 20 years of our life, she just couldn’t break it to us that we were going to eventually have to lay grey carpet to conceal the constant fluff that was going to take over our home and coat all of our outfits in an ever-present veil of cat hair. My favourite is when I find literal fur tumbleweeds in the clean laundry, which is obviously your favourite place to sleep even though you have a perfectly good GREY cat bed.
Don’t get me wrong—I love the colour grey, too. It’s so chic and versatile, kind of like emo black for people who are too lazy to be truly mad. Eevee, I love you, but I’m getting bored of wearing you. And while I hear you when you say: “No outfit is complete without a little cat hair!” can you hear me when I say it would be nice to be able to walk out the door without having to attack myself with a lint roller? I can’t even sit next to my friend who has cat allergies because she is now allergic to my clothes: This has to stop! And since trying to shave you doesn’t seem like a great option for anyone, I’d love your suggestions on what we can do to keep us all feline good (ha!).