Cat Licker

Description

We’ve all got that one friend who’s basically a ghost in his own house. He’s just a roommate for a creature that doesn’t pay rent and sheds enough DNA every day to coat a small sedan. You go over to his place and you can’t even sit on the couch without coming out looking like a Muppet. It’s a tragedy. He’s breathing in more cat hair than oxygen at this point.

You give him this.

It’s a grooming brush, sure. It’s got the little steam function to make the cat feel like it’s at a spa. But the real gift is what happens after the brushing. You’re handing him a kit that basically says, “Look, man, since you’ve given up on having a girlfriend, why not just build one out of the floor-sweepings?”

You’re telling him he can collect all that loose fur and felt it into a little hat, or maybe a tiny, silent companion that won’t judge him for watching “Band of Brothers” for the sixteenth time this year. It’s a craft project for the lonely. It’s a way to turn his house-wide hygiene failure into a hobby.

It’s the ultimate “I’ve accepted my fate” starter pack. You’re letting him embrace the shed. You’re saying, “If you can’t beat the dander, become the dander.” Every time he pins a little felt ear onto a ball of matted hair, he’s one step closer to becoming the final boss of the “Single Pet Owner” category. It’s dark, it’s fuzzy, and it’s probably the most social interaction he’s had all week.