She has officially gone off the rails, round the twist, lost her marbles and just generally ventured into the land of the loony. As "P" day draws nearer, she has been inspecting my person and finding it wanting. "Sheaffer", she said this week, "you look like an old hearth rug with burn marks." "OH? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" was what I wanted to say but it's best to keep silent when she is in one of her states.
Our donkey-loving friend Mary Jane the human was visiting and assured her I looked fine but she would have none of it. Out came the gigantic clippers and she set to work. It took them forever because donkey hair is highly resistant to assault but eventually they had removed approximately two wheelbarrow loads of my winter coat. Jack initially had a complete meltdown because he thought it was somehow related to "vitinaries" but he finally realized the attack was levelled strictly at me. My new, improved appearance (please insert dripping sarcasm here) is so freakishly horrendous that I refuse to go out in public. She keeps trying to correct her mistakes and it keeps getting worse. I may have to wear a mumu or tent or at least a blanket to my own party.
My ears are throbbing so I will move on to a happier subject. My friend BumbleVee who reads my blog heard of the party/fundraiser and has sent us one of her handmade bears for the silent auction. He is an imposing and spectacular bear and stands a full two and one half inches tall. His name is Tuffy and he travelled here all the way from Calgary in a padded envelope, emerging with nary a sign of travel sickness and ready to do his bit. The woman has placed him in his own "Fauxbearge" egg and there he sits like a small, benevolent despot. His siblings have won many awards and his extended family can be seen at www.picturetrail.com/bumblebearies I have included a photo of him although it doesn't do him justice. At least the woman didn't cut his head off. I hope she doesn't get any ideas about using the clippers on him...
Another friend, Brenda, one of my honourary human aunts and owner of Ruby Cat Creations, has designed and sewn five extraordinary fly masks that will also go in the auction. They look like they are straight off the runways of Paris (I've only seen pictures of Paris, I'm afraid). Molly wants all five and the woman is having trouble suppressing her increasing whining and pleading. Here are photos of the five, again, they are by the woman so please be warned.
Many, many other wonderful things have appeared for the auction and the bake sale is gathering momentum. I may have to check out that table in between pressing the flesh and signing autographs. They are having prints of my portrait made, which I will sign with my hoofprint. The woman is warning people to hang it in a quiet corner as the eyes follow you everywhere, making the viewer feel guilty and inadequate. Pshaw, what nonsense.
I must now trudge off to hide my humiliation behind a tree.