I tried to brush my cat’s teeth and have the scar to prove it

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My family has always had cats. My first cat was Conifer, given to us by my aunt. Conifer lived with us for over 14 years, and died of cancer when I was 21.

He was a really cool cat. He was an outdoor cat, and loved to bring us gifts, most of which were dead, but every once in awhile, he’d dump some poor wounded bird in the living room and my mom would understandably freak out. When Conifer died, my parents found Ferris Bueller, and I got Buckaroo Banzai. Ferris, obviously, was named after the Matthew Broderick film, but Buckaroo was named because as a kitten, he used to try and ram his head through walls, as if attempting to reach the 8th dimension. Eventually, I gave Buckaroo to Mom and Dad and he and Ferris became best friends.

One afternoon, when we were living in Florida, my mom called me and asked me to come over to the house. The cats had gone to the vet for their annual physical and the vet had suggested brushing their teeth.  For some bizarre reason, my mom called me and asked me to brush the cats’ teeth. Even more strange was the fact that I agreed. Now this was summer in Orlando, Florida, and I was dressed for the heat and humidity, not tiger wrestling, wearing a Mighty Lemon Drops tee shirt (wow, I remember that shirt) and shorts. Standard young adult wear in Orlando. I walked into the foyer and my mom smiled at my collarbone and hugged me. Hard. Energetically, even. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

“The stuff from the vet is in the kitchen, Ferris is on his towel on our bed” she said, waving her arm in the general direction of the bedroom, still not making eye contact. I walked to the bed and calmly picked up Ferris.

“Now, the vet said the toothbrush has special bristles that feel good on their gums, so it’s relaxing for them” Mom murmured. If that toothbrush had been coated in Xanax it would not have relaxed Ferris. Me, yes. Ferris, no way. I nodded, not having any idea what the hell she was going on about, and headed into the kitchen. So far, Ferris was just limp in my arms, staring up at me with his gorgeous eyes. How hard can this be, I mused to myself as I sat down. I realized very quickly that it would be impossible to put the toothpaste (Beef flavored) on the brush while holding the cat. I turned to ask my mom to help and she had disappeared. Poof. Gone. I put the end of the toothbrush in my mouth, opened the beefy goodness with one hand, spit the brush back onto the table and squeezed the paste onto the brush.

Have you ever tried to give a cat a pill? You know that moment when you have to wrench their jaw open and shove the pill down their throat? Okay, now imagine doing that while holding a toothbrush AND a cat. You can’t just hold the cat down with your elbow and use the same hand to open their mouth. As soon as I tried to open Ferris’s mouth and he tasted that beefy paste, he dug his back claws into my thigh and flew half way across the kitchen, screaming at me.  A gash appeared on my leg, about 3-5 inches long, maybe 1/8″ deep, and holy &%^$, did that thing hurt. I sat there for a few seconds, absorbing what had just happened, noticing a huge brown splotch of beef toothpaste on my Mighty Lemon Drops shirt when suddenly I hear my mother’s cultured voice.

“Are you finished yet?”

I gingerly rose from the chair and opened the drawer of dishtowels and cloth napkins. Digging down past the towels, I found a gorgeous ecru napkin, linen, soft, ironed. Perfect. I slapped that linen napkin onto the now free flowing wound on my leg, grabbed my keys and yelling “You’re damn right I’m done!”, limped out to my car. My dad called that evening to report they had given up on brushing the cats’ teeth. REALLY.

She knew. She knew it would be awful and horrible and that Ferris would try and kill whichever one of us was stupid enough to attempt this insanity. Ferris eventually recovered and went on to climb up the screen that covered my parents’ pool, becoming stuck, upside down, hanging over said pool. While they were on vacation. Took me about 5 hours to get him down. Cats don’t climb backwards. I never knew that. I now am the proud slave to Princess, an 18 pound mass of fur and purr that we rescued from the Humane Society. She has her own set of quirks-burying her waste so fervently in the litter box that she shoots her own poo out onto the floor, grabbing her catnip fish toy at midnight and wandering around the house, talking to herself-but she is probably the best cat I have ever had in my life. And it will be a cold day in hell before I brush her teeth.

 

About Post Author

Erin Nanasi

Erin Nanasi is an avid underwater basket weaver, with a penchant for satire and the odd wombat reference.
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12 years ago

Fun read, Erin–thanks!

Erin N.
Reply to  Greenlight
12 years ago

Thank you!

12 years ago

An 18 pound cat? You’re a brave mom for trying to brush that big guy’s teeth. My vet showed me how to use my fingernail to get tartar off their teeth. It worked at my peril.

If you ever need a baby sitter for Ferris, I’d like to volunteer my time.

Another great post, Erin.

Erin N.
Reply to  Dorothy Anderson
12 years ago

Do you still have that finger? Unfortunately, Ferris passed a few years before my mom did. This is one of the funniest things that ever happened in our family. Well, there was the time my mom shot out of the driveway to go to the store and backed into my car…and my dad cleaning tar off my mom’s car with an S.O.S. pad. Huh. We’re a weird family.

Reply to  Erin N.
12 years ago

You know, it’s funny you mentioned my finger. I still have it… barely.

I’m so sorry about Ferris, Erin. I just lost my big guy. Weird family? No, I’d say pretty normal. I’d be the type of person to clean a car with an S.O.S. pad without giving it a second thought.

I cherish weird.

Reply to  Erin Nanasi
12 years ago

Erin, as one cat mom to another, I am truly honored to be welcomed into your family. May I give you a Brillo pad in return?

I still grieve over my cat who passed away from cancer over 10 years ago. Rather than repeat myself, here’s my eulogy (also at the risk of shameless self promotion…)

https://madmikesamerica.com/2011/07/when-a-pet-dies/

jenny40
12 years ago

Haha! What a great story this is, and believe me I can relate, and also have the scars to prove it!

Erin N.
Reply to  jenny40
12 years ago

I had our vet tell us that they normally sedate cats for a teeth cleaning. Yeah, that would have been HELPFUL.

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