The cat who rents our house to us (cost: two bowls of kibble per day with the occasional small can of wet food mixed in) is well into her summer shedding of hair. For some reason, this particular season has been a bit extreme.
A couple of weeks ago, I held her on my lap and combed her, and combed her, and combed her — well, you get the idea — and it seemed she was growing more hair to replace the hair she had shed even faster than I could comb it out.
Mrs. Doud stuck her head out the patio door. “What are you going to do with all that hair?” she asked. “I’m going to leave it here,” I replied. “I understand we may get a nice breeze, and hopefully it all will blow away.”
The next morning, the phone ran. It was the lady from the Air Pollution Control Agency. “We are getting reports of a huge cat-hair cloud hovering over your neighborhood,” she said. “You had better hope it disperses before the wind stops blowing, or you will have to do a lot of sweeping.”
I spent some time this weekend sweeping cat hair from the floor of the garage, but it seemed more cat hair was to be seen when I finished than when I began. The sweeping of cat hair merely propels the hairs into the air, where they float around and land somewhere else. I’ve tried using the vacuum, but the hair merely clogs the hose. When the vacuum is shut off, the hair poofs back out.
The cat likes to sleep atop the car, and by morning the vehicle is covered with hair. One recent night, I left the side window ajar, and the next morning I had to wipe the front seat clean before I could get in.
One thing I will say: She looks thinner and is about five pounds lighter than she was before she started shedding, which may be an advantage. When I shed my own hair a few years ago, I got fatter. Cats must have all the luck.