Notes from a parish cat and his author Julie Mackenzie

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I am Father Tom Fish, esteemed member of the religious team at Temptation of Christ Parish in the novels by author Julie Mackenzie. As to my background, I was invited into the rectory as a stray, laid on the charm, and was invited to stay, even honorarily ordained and no less spiritual than my sidekick Father Will. He dotes on me to high heaven and forgives all of my street cat proclivities, whatever the hell that means.

Monday, June 27, 2022

How the Fur Flies

Hi, furriends..

I know...we hear about it all the time. The housekeeper says the vacuum canister is filled to the gills after one run through in living room, dining room and kitchen, and it's all FUR!!! 👀

Now, she combs me every few days or so, but I notice I'm leaving clumps around anyway and the curtains...!! Who knew?

She took care of this right quick, I'll tell you!

Me? I don't even notice my furs saying bye-bye. I do feel a tad lighter, though! 😂

~~Tom xx


Memories of Eric and Flynn said...

LOL! I used to have curtains like that, Tom.

Brian's Home Blog said...

Simon likes to leave some furs about just for the fun of it!

Eastside Cats said...

Yes Tom, there are chunks o'fur here too.
Sweetie will accept a few seconds of combing, then those murder mitts come out to play.

da tabbies o trout towne said...

dood…iznt it de best feelin ta shedz thoz winter furz even if itz summer time N yur
furz iz all reddy plannin on starin ta grow in for fall time ❤️

meowmeowmans said...

Maybe the curtains have fur, and THEY'RE the ones shedding? ;)

Greg_1948 in_WA said...

Doesn't take much for fur to fall out in the summer so you are not so hot. It seems to get into everywhere!

Basil and The B Team ~ BionicBasil ® said...

Hi Tom, it's really epic to meet mew dude, and thanks for stopping by Parsley's birthday bash!

Adorapurr said...

Dear Tom, My favorite place to leave my excess furs is on my Momma's lap, especially when she's wearing black. My brofur Opie, who is orange, leaves his excess furs on the white curtains in the bedroom. What were they thinking? Who knows! I've stopped trying to understand hoomons. Love, Dori