The Boy and I went to the pet store on Saturday night because we’re wild party animals. And because Oliver’s ears were icky. They don’t bother him, but I can’t ignore the ear wax and I touch it. Then I have to wash my hands because ew.
Of course we looked and the mice and birds and ferrets and lizards and snakes and spiders. I have confirmed that geckos and gerbils are creepy little creatures; they can not be trusted. Ew.
This time we looked at the fish as well. Red-finned sharks aren’t in style anymore, I guess. But all the other tetra-type fish I had as a kid were there.
Then we went to the kitty care aisle. As I read the package of ear wipes I started to laugh. The Boy looked at me. “Bond with your pet through grooming,” I read.
Then I moved on to the ear cleanser and laughed again. Look from The Boy. “I’m supposed to ‘allow’ my cat to shake his head when I put this is his ears.”
As if I could stop him. The second I put the drops in Oliver’s ears, he shook his head. Cleanser went everywhere. Luckily it smells really good. And enough stayed in his ears that the cleansing pads worked really well.
Today, my grey kitten has clean, pink on the insides ears.
And suspicions about my intentions whenever I approach him.