He’s just not that into baths

He’s just not that into baths….
It’s very typical to have a cat that doesn’t like water. I know you’ve heard it before.

But this giant fur ball was brought down to size by the strong hand of a bath and the pictures are worth sharing.

The unsuspecting kitty.

Little does Cowboy Cat know that he needs a bath…and needs it bad.

A visiting kitty (who will remain nameless) brought fleas to our giant fur ball.

Cowboy Cat investigates his arch nemesis.

The fur ball’s worst fear is realized. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Cowboy brings his work Home

I was in the middle of cooking, when I distinctly heard a ruckus.
We have an open door policy in the fall, and I knew instantly who to blame for the said ruckus.

Cowboy Cat 2000.

Prancing about my breakfast nook was the little furry guy-with his prey.

I believe that his preference for crunchy insects is due to a tender heart-he just can’t bring himself to kill the other furry creatures that roam the backyard.

Biceps thinks it’s due to his lack of claws and basic hunting skills.

Whatever.

He can be so vicious, but disarming. Wrapped up in the furriest little body you could ever imagine, lies a killer inside.

His favorite action was to place his paw on top of it. Genius.

And then, he would occasionally bat it underneath the door.

Only to fish it out again.

Finally, he moved the game of cat and butterfly outside.

At least he cleans up after himself.

Cowboy perched for awhile here, letting the other butterflies know who is king of this castle.

After a few minutes, he was bored with the kill and came inside for some man-made treats.

My vicious little killer loves his ‘Party Mix’…

The Sacrificial Moth

*if you have an attachment to moths and their well-being, maybe you shouldn’t be reading this….

Cowboy is quite proud of himself if he ever catches anything.
Devoid of claws and the basic hunting skills most kitties were taught by their momma’s; he has a lot working against him.

Ooh, what’s this fluttering around in the grass?

Sniff, sniff?

One heavily sniffed moth was transferred from grass to patio.

More sniffing was involved after the transfer, until the moth decided it was time for him to escape the gigantic furry creature.

An intense game of ‘Cat and Moth’ began. It looked like the moth was winning.

The heavy paw of justice informed me that I had spoken too soon.

Hit ‘em with the right!

Uppercut!

Eyes are locked, whiskers twitching, he’s coming in for the kill.

One last sniff, oh give me one last sniff….

Crunch. Chomp. Crunch.

Goodbye, Mr. Moth. You fought the good fight. But Cowboy needs to win one every so often. Thank you for your sacrifice.

A Close Shave

I love the springtime. The flowers are in bloom. The birds are busy nest-building.

And…the cat needs a shave.

Here’s a before of our furry beast.

This is Cowboy’s arch nemesis. Mr. Remington burned out in the middle of the shaving process. We had to call for backup.

This pile of fur tells the story of:

two pairs of clippers that burnt out

one expletive dropped due to cat fangs

both Biceps’ and my entire outfit engulfed in cat hair

and…

a cold kitty.

And here is our furry beast after-our ‘Little Lion’.

It took a few moment until he would talk to us again.