It is I, the critical Eye

©FrogDiva Photography

I got to be writing assistant again today because Cherry, whom this is really all about, is being unsociable and is sulking in a corner somewhere instead of taking up her blogging duty on the desk. She does have a right to be annoyed though, considering she just got her summer grooming.

Up until this morning Cherry’s elegant fur resembled Jon Snow’s coat in GOT (gosh, how we miss that series). Now that the temperatures here in Berlin have hit the 30c mark though, Mom decided that it was time for all of us to get summer looks. Lolita got hers a while ago, and even though she still looks like an anaemic squirrel from a parallel world, her fur is growing back.

It will be my turn soon, and I don’t mind the bubble baths and showers that I end up with. Although I do miss the fancy grooming salons in Bangkok. I got treats, a massage, cool music, most of the time a decent trim, and a nice pedicure. The salons in Manila were not as elegant, and the grooming was usually done by my vet, but I always came out looking pretty.

Do we felines really need grooming though? Well, we Persians certainly do, if only to keep up with our ancestral goddess attitude. In ancient Egypt my cousins used to be worshiped with milk and honey, with all sorts of things offered at their feet. In exchange, they were supposed to grant wishes and solve human problems. No thank you. I descend from the royal Persian houses, where were not gods, but had equal status to a member of the royal family, with platoons of servants to command. How humiliating that I only have two humans to command now!

Ah, but I digress… yes, well, Cherry is ticked off and because she growled and escaped in the middle of the session, she ended up with a rather patchy looking fur. Looks nothing like her Queen of Westeros look from this morning, but more like something I would drag in on a rainy day.

Meowingly yours,
Champagne

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