A bad case of "forget this stuff"

Every spring, I shave Moo the cat. I am quite allergic to him and can't really brush him so shaving is the way to go, especially as he's shedding like crazy.

Since we have moved to Germany, it's no exception that I wanted to rid him of some of the extra fur that's flying around here. I purposefully packed my clippers when I moved here. I broke out the transformer and plugged the clippers in. I rounded up the cat, who was suddenly trying to make himself very scarce.

I shaved a couple swatches of fur off but the clippers weren't working well. The blades are newer; they only have about one Moo-shaving experience on them, but they weren't working well. The clippers are 18 years old and were used on horses before; maybe they're reaching the end of their life. I then tried some clippers that a colleague gave me. No dice there, either. Moo looked super patchy.

In the meantime, I was sneezing and grumpy. The cat was trying to slink away. There was cat hair all over the kitchen.

All of a sudden, I had a huge wave of "forget this stuff" (well, maybe a ruder version of that!) wash over me. I let the cat go, unplugged the clippers, left the kitchen, and shut the door behind me.

I left it like that for two days. That's how bad the "forget this stuff" was. I had enough and the cat did too.

Two days later, I cleaned up the whole mess. Moo was partially shaved. He basically looks like he has a case of mange, but at least he's super soft still. That's good enough for this year.

One of the benefits of not spending much time in the kitchen: I could leave this mess, shut the door, and not think about it for two days.

I was like Honey Badger at this point: I just didn't care any more.