Last fall, our little family expanded in the most delightful way. For a while, hubby and I have been debating the pros and cons of hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in the hallway and in November, it finally happened. Yes, we adopted a rescue cat.
Spice is wonderful. He’s 12, affectionate, happy and appears to have a huge vocabulary. They call his colour “buff” which is a fancy way of saying a combination of white and an orangey-brown. Spice is a source of constant amusement and “awwww” moments and he has only one downside. He sheds like his hair is toxic to his skin.
The “no cat in the bed” decree lasted about 30 minutes so we find his stiff, little hairs on our comforter. Thankfully, he’s not a table-walker or a counter-jumper so his follicle fallout doesn’t find its way into our food but it’s nearly everywhere else. Sometimes I find it in a clump on the carpet, as if an entire section of his body must have been rendered bald. But it’s not so. It appears to regrow as fast as he loses it.
So what’s a semi-neat-freak gal to do, besides warn guests that they may need to use a sticky-roll on their backsides before they leave?
It quickly became clear that the upright vacuum was not up to this job so I purchased a canister model with a long hose and several attachments that claimed to specialize in picking up pet hair. It does a pretty good job but I can’t help but suspect it was designed for a cat half Spice’s size with fewer follicles per inch. The floor attachment has a piece of lint-brush material attached which is helpful but requires clearing every few sweeps. However the effectiveness of the upholstery and other attachments makes up for it. Still, I’m rethinking the wisdom of the brown-and-black striped area rug in my TV room. I love the look of it but since Spice’s arrival it only seems hair-free for about 10 minutes after each vacuum. I’m thinking tumbleweeds of hair on hardwood floors might be easier to Swiffer.
In between vacuums I roll the couch cushions and pillows with the sticky-rollers. The comforter gets rolled, too, and washed thoroughly once a week. The dryer’s lint brush picks up a mat of hair, enough to weave myself a whole new cat. As for Spice, he gets brushed regularly with one of those special doodads that removes a small mouse-sized clump of hair each time. I’m lucky he loves to get brushed and he also enjoys the sticky roller rolling across his fur. What he thinks is loving attention is also a means to an end although a pet owner quickly realizes there is no real end to shedding.
A friend who vacuums his cat swears that I will be able to coax Spice to sit quietly while his loose hairs are sucked away but I’m skeptical. Just the sight of the vacuum sends him scrambling to another part of the house. He wants nothing to do with it and I’m not about to force the issue.
Frankly, I’ve cried “uncle” and now simply inform visitors that they may end up with hairs on their pants and to help themselves to a complimentary lint roller on the way out. You know those terrifically ugly, hairless cats whose very existence you’ve always questioned? Well, now I know. A little bit of ugly seems like a pretty fair trade for a hairless couch. But we wouldn’t trade Spice for anything. Like a parent’s floor covered in Fisher Price toys, his little hair clumps are simply proof that there’s something we love more than the impossible pursuit of perfection.
I have received a variety of responses since this column was published over the weekend. They include:
Towards the end of the piece, you mentioned the possible advantages of hairless cats, which cannot possibly shed. However, all fur-bearing creatures exude oil from their skin, which serves to condition the fur. I once read an article written by someone who owned two hairless cats; naturally, they often felt chilly. So, this person found herself constantly mopping up oily slicks from warm places, such as the top of her big-box TV set. I wouldn’t even want to consider what the warm corner of the cloth couch might be like after a couple of years of happy pet ownership! Kinda spins vacuuming up pet hair into a new and positive light, doesn’t it? It did for me, anyway.
And this one:
Regarding your shedding cat. I have two The hair problem you describe is a result of dry room conditions and a dehydrating diet. Cure: Pets4Life raw Feline diet. I have tried many remedies and foods in the past but this raw food diet is a miracle on many levels but especially for the hair issue. My cats were great shedders and crunchy to the touch. Now I only brush them for fun. Their coats look and feel like Mink.
And my favourite:
Regarding your opinion on hairless cats (Sphynx) expressed in the Toronto Sun on 02/03/13.
You might not find them to be attractive, but why would you question their existence? We share our home with four of these cats,as well as two with hair. The Sphynx’s are gentle, playful, extremely intelligent, and non-judgmental regarding the existence of others.
If you believe existence should be determined by looks, perhaps you should look in the mirror. You would certainly be one of the first off the planet on the fat ugly people ship.
(I responded by thanking the writer for the laugh and he has since apologized!)
Hairy animals. As someone who doesn’t own a cat, but a 90LB Labrador who sheds like your cat (portable fur distribution center), I learned 3 things upon receiving my first lab, power heads for your vacuum, leather furniture and in my case, the dog lives here, you don’t, so get use to it or thanks for stopping by.
I will say, we have many birds living in our complex and each of them likely have a fur lined nest, for after brushing him I gladly donate the fur to the birds by tossing it over the fence.
Great idea about the fur. I’ve also heard it keeps critters out of your yard.
There’s a SHIP for fat, ugly people? OMG, that tidbit should be sent immediately to the Sun’s travel editors! Glad the bald cat fancier (Sphynxter?) apologized. 😉
I guess because I didn’t take the bait he realized how silly he seemed! I still think it’s super funny!!