Friday, November 20, 2009

A Journal of the Plague Year, 3

Today, we're taking all four cats to the groomer for their lime-sulfur dips. They will come home reeking of gunpowder, or fireworks if you are of a more pacifistic persuasion. Their lovely white fur will be yellowed and they will feel dusty and dry. We have to put them through this every Friday for the next couple of months, and I feel terrible about it. But it's supposed to be the best thing for treating ringworm, along with their oral medication.

I held the little Possum today, enjoying his silken kitten coat, which may never be the same again. In two months, when we're hoping all this will be over, he should have the beginnings of his grown-up coat, which won't be so baby-fine and soft.

Wendy and Snicky survived one dipping already, so we know the smell dissipates, but the dip that remains of their coats isn't pleasant, and there's sure to be build-up if they're getting more every week.

I couldn't resist taking a few last photos of the kittens before they turn yellow and weird. Here's one....

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