Queen and Latifa



Posted on August 6, 2009 at 11:19 PM Comments comments (3)

I almost didn't post this blog out of shame...


Without wishing to reinforce any stereotypes of gay men being prissy, I groom. I am not ashamed of this. In fact, I think it's a good thing, and I like and appreciate it when other men groom. Grooming should not be seen as effeminate, more considerate for others and indicative of an eye for the aesthetic. But I digress, there is actually a reason for my admission of groomery...


I was trimming my chest hair with my clippers in the front room the other day, and I glanced over and noticed that the scratch post was looking a bit raggedy. Now, any normal person would have shrugged and carried on with what they were doing. Not me. Without a second thought, I paused my grooming, and trimmed the scratch post to make it neater.





It was only afterwards, that I thought that such an action might be a bit neurotic...


M x

The Scratch Post Incident

Posted on April 3, 2009 at 12:14 PM Comments comments (2)

When I decided to adopt a rescue cat, I went a bit over the top with purchases. Before even having a cat, I went out and bought a large roofed litter tray with cat flap (supposedly more pleasant and dignified for kitty according to the Argos catalogue), a deluxe cat basket (that tastefully went with the decor of my front room), a deluxe scratch post (that also tastefully went with the decor of my front room), a silly amount of cat toys, and an even sillier amount of cat treats.


The RSPCA recommended that, as a first time cat owner, that I didn't have an abused cat. 'Tifa had been the cat of an old lady who died and as such would be, allegedly, a relatively simple cat to get settled. So the evening after I'd collected her, she had indeed settled, and she was walking around like she owned the place.


She started scratching the rug. I pursed my lips (I'd been expecting destruction of my furniture, and had been warned by many people), and decided that I'd attempt to get her to use the cat scratcher. So I got her attention by calling her name and then pointed to the scratch post. She sauntered over to the scratch post, looked at me in disdain (I swear she cocked her head!), and then proceeded to scratch the rug about three inches away from the scratch post.


Well that was me told, I guess. Contrary kitty does what she likes!


M x

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