I love this story, written by Franny some years back. I think it is so fun, I wanted to share it with you if you haven't seen it, and to share it again with those f you who have read it. It reminds me of my own cat, Rockie, about whom you will hear many stories.

Rockie is what I call a "serial groomer" and always looks utterly spic-and-span clean. In fact, my usual first clue that he's not feeling well is a messy or rumpled coat or noticing him grooming less frequently.

However, he does have a couple of habits I wish I could get him to change, such as curling up next to me when I nap, only to decide that it's a great time for a full grooming. I figure out, though, that the reason he does this is that he can lean against me while in the "leg 'o mutton" stance, because with no support, he does occasionally tip over. He is, after all, a bit of a big boy at 17 pounds.

really, though, I do enjoy watching him groom. I love watching him clean his ears and face, and am amazed at his flexibility when he turns around to give his back and shoulders a good scrub down. However, when he get to the point in his grooming ritual where it's time to bite his toenails (well, OK, chew and trim his rear claws) is when I wonder - would I put up with this (while attempting to nap, of all things) from any OTHER being, feline or human? I think not!
When in Doubt, Wash

When I was about 13, I was awakened one night (along with the rest of the neighbors) by a cacophony of cursing and caterwauling coming from within my house. We lived in a run-down housing project near an oil refinery. Our Manx cat, Bobby, had apparently fallen into one of the tar pits, then decided to come home and sleep in his favorite place, in my parents' bed. My step-father was none too pleased, as you might expect, hence all the racket as he scrubbed the hapless cat with a brush in the kitchen sink. As I recall, it took the puss another week or so to complete the cleaning process.

Fortunately, this kind of occurrence is rare, as cats have wonderfully supple spines and built-in scrub brushes within their raspy little tongues, an ideal combination for personal grooming. Over the years, my husband, Asa and I have spent countless hours watching our evolving brood at their ministrations, for the most part an extremely relaxing experience, but sometimes side-jiggling funny.

Our daughter has two cats who tend toward obesity. One evening while visiting, we laughed 'till tears streamed at the contortions of her largest furball (who weighed in at 22 pounds at the time), trying to achieve the "leg of mutton" position in order to wash his hindquarters. Poor Livingston was so fat that he just didn't flex, and every time he would roll over like a fuzzy black bowling ball, we would scream with laughter, until he finally stalked off in a huff (or I should say "waddled" off in a huff.