I’m pretty sure the packaging that came with our de-shedding brush had some blurb on it about how grooming your cat can be a relaxing and bonding activity. I’m still waiting to see if it ever gets relaxing, but we sure do have fun.
My theory is that Grendel thinks the brush is “attacking” her because she behaves just like she would if she and Fafnir were play fighting. She flips onto her back, keeps her feet up and ready to repel me, and I have to rely on my agility to get any fur off of her (and take it off the brush before she can eat it).
Thankfully, she rarely unsheathes her claws when she’s play fighting with us. Even if I stop and let her run off, she usually comes stalking back over in a minute or two to attack the brush again. So I guess she likes it?
Perhaps I am the only one with this anxiety, but I hope not… Doesn’t matter if I’m wearing brand new shoes, definitely showered and am wearing new socks, my first fear is that I’m the source of a strange smell.
As further proof that buying cat toys is largely unnecessary, I present to you: Fafnir entertaining himself with a scrap of balled up paper.
Nate: Is it really that unnerving?
Me: Yes! It’s like this: the company is small enough that I cannot be just an anonymous person who no one will notice and yet big enough that all these people will know about me is probably those short interactions in the break room. And if I make a fool of myself in there – spilling my food, exploding things in the microwave, stumbling over my words while making small talk, tripping over my own feet – that’s all they’ll have to go on. They won’t know the rest of me. Unlike with you, I can be a complete fool because I know you really know me, but they’re all sudo-strangers – not stranger enough that I can dismiss them, but not familiar enough for me to be at ease.
Nate: Being you sounds difficult.
Me: Yes, yes it is…
Fact: I give myself a mental pat on the back every time I face my fears or manage to mingle or socialize without being too self-conscious. It’s been harder post-college, and it’s a continual struggle, so sometimes I prefer to just avoid the anxiety and eat really early or really late in the work day.
First glance, this video appears to be of Fafnir attacking my other cat Grendel, but nope – he’s chosen to pick on something that won’t bite him back: my sweatpants.
True fact, my cat Fafnir loves lettuce. My husband gave him a leaf from his salad once, thinking he’d just play around with it. Instead, he scarfed it down and wanted more.
Sorry the video is shot portrait style; I was still getting used to filming with my new phone at the time.