Hubby said, “I’ve got this.”
Ten minutes later, the cat emerged looking like a Victorian-era poet who just survived a wind tunnel. One side brushed, the other side expressing artistic freedom. Whiskers offended. Floof expanded to maximum volume.
The husband was proud.
The cat was judgmental.
The brush was never trusted again.
Some grooming sessions are less spa day…
and more character development .😼
