Brushing Time by Chessie

Hi Frankie,

 Do you like having your coat brushed?  I love it!  My Mom has a special wooden box near my comfy chair.  I know that in the special box are my comb and brush.  Almost every morning when she’s finished with her coffee, she’ll look at me and ask “Do you want to get brushed?”  I recognize that word ‘brush’ and I know where she keeps my comb and brush, in that wooden box - so I jump up on the thing she calls an ottoman – funny word – and I start to dance around in anticipation.

 It feels so good when Mom brushes me.  I purr and drool and rub against her hand trying to hurry her along – I LOVE to be brushed!  I’ll even help her by climbing up and trying to use my nose to open the box to make her move faster.  Ah… it feels so good to be brushed!!

 My Mom has realized though that sometimes she says the word brush and I come running ‘cause I think she’s going to brush me – but she’s not!  She laughs when that happens!  Hrummph!  She did this to me the other day – she was working with some funny looking thing, rubbing it on the wall in the hall, and said, ‘This brush isn’t spreading the paint evenly.’

 I was asleep in a chair near where she was working with something that was wet and smelly – paint I think she called it… but when I heard her say my favorite word, brush, I went running into my sunny room and jumped up on the ottoman, but Mom stayed in the hall muttering to herself… until she heard me repeatedly calling to her:  “Me-om!”  She came to investigate and I was trying to open the special box with my nose.

 My Mom really loves me – she finally stopped making that happy, laughing noise and sat right down and brushed me. Ahhhhh…. It was heavenly!