It turns out it's actually impossible to get beetroot juice off of even a cooperative cat. Maf is now slightly pink and will be for some time.
Sherlock is going through a phase where he doesn't like beetroot - I'm sure he loved it just six months ago? - and attempted to feed it to the dogs. Not unsurprisingly, the dogs also don't enjoy beetroot. So there it was on the floor, and the story is understandable up until this point, but then I can only assume that Maf rolled in it, because she got herself absolutely covered and looked like a small reddish tiger when I found her lurking on top of a bookcase.
I took her to the sink and did my best to get it off, but all I can really say I got for my efforts is that she doesn't smell like beetroot anymore and she isn't leaving smudges on the furniture.
It still went considerably better than the last time I tried to bathe a cat. I was looking after a neighbour's white Persian while she was away, and the cat (Pompom) tripped me up while I was carrying a plate of spaghetti and tomato sauce. Pompom was unhurt but quite covered in sauce. I sprained my ankle and spent the next two hours limping after her around the flat and finally wrapping the more dangerous parts of her in a towel while I rinsed her off. Maf was an angel by comparison. Definitely one of my better patients.
Also here's a photo I've been meaning to post for a while. Wild strawberries creeping into the allotment:
They're very tiny and very tart - or they were. They're long gone now. Birds and Sherlock finished them off ages ago. Which reminds me, I've worked out why our pink blueberry bush never makes any blueberries: it needs a mate. It can't pollinate itself. So we're working on that. I don't know if it can cross pollinate with normal blueberries, or what the results would be if it did (purple? magenta? probably just blue I would guess), but I'm trying to find another pink one. Sherlock is excited all over again.
Sherlock is going through a phase where he doesn't like beetroot - I'm sure he loved it just six months ago? - and attempted to feed it to the dogs. Not unsurprisingly, the dogs also don't enjoy beetroot. So there it was on the floor, and the story is understandable up until this point, but then I can only assume that Maf rolled in it, because she got herself absolutely covered and looked like a small reddish tiger when I found her lurking on top of a bookcase.
I took her to the sink and did my best to get it off, but all I can really say I got for my efforts is that she doesn't smell like beetroot anymore and she isn't leaving smudges on the furniture.
It still went considerably better than the last time I tried to bathe a cat. I was looking after a neighbour's white Persian while she was away, and the cat (Pompom) tripped me up while I was carrying a plate of spaghetti and tomato sauce. Pompom was unhurt but quite covered in sauce. I sprained my ankle and spent the next two hours limping after her around the flat and finally wrapping the more dangerous parts of her in a towel while I rinsed her off. Maf was an angel by comparison. Definitely one of my better patients.
Also here's a photo I've been meaning to post for a while. Wild strawberries creeping into the allotment:
They're very tiny and very tart - or they were. They're long gone now. Birds and Sherlock finished them off ages ago. Which reminds me, I've worked out why our pink blueberry bush never makes any blueberries: it needs a mate. It can't pollinate itself. So we're working on that. I don't know if it can cross pollinate with normal blueberries, or what the results would be if it did (purple? magenta? probably just blue I would guess), but I'm trying to find another pink one. Sherlock is excited all over again.
