All Those Times Collecting Barbershop Hair Are Worth It Now That I Adopted A Bald Cat
I would feel ashamed if I were you. Completely ashamed. All those times you made fun of me for my ‘hobby’ — volunteering to sweep up and then, unbeknownst to my employer, collect the various clumps of hair that had fallen onto the floor, whereby I would then store them for safekeeping — were all for naught! In hindsight, I should’ve never gone to that work outing and I should’ve never had that second Appletini at Applebee’s. I trusted all of you with my secret and you repaid me in hair pranks and hair jokes that seemed to have no end. But who’s laughing now, huh? Because I just got a bald cat like in Austin Powers and now my hair menagerie is well worth it! Haha!
They say ‘good things come to those who wait,’ and ‘time will heal all wounds,’ and ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.’ To that I reply: the first two are absolutely true for me, and the third is painfully false because I don’t think I could stand another day being called “Hairy Barry” before I went postal. But now I have no reason to! As of today, I no longer will be the office’s punching bag or perforated karate-chop board or pillow with my middle school bully Tyler’s face drawn on it. “Hairy Barry” will be an afterthought after you see what I’ve done to my cat, Mr. Bojangles, who was unfairly born without hair.
My mother always told me I was a kind soul, so I set out to prove my kindness with actions. I paid attention to the world — to all its misery and sadness and unfairness — to try to find a cause where no one had cared to help, to find a cause where I would be the first one to make a difference. I found that cause in hairless cats.
I knew that it would require quite a lot of collecting to get the amount of discarded human hair that I wanted to re-apply to a bald cat, so in early spring of last year I took an unpaid apprenticeship at Fatt Cutts Barbershop and began to source my nu-fur. After I had amassed quite the payload, I went out and found the first Sphynx I could find, named him Mr. Bojangles, and began to painstakingly apply my mishmash of hair to his naked body.
Knowing that I am giving him that which he needs to survive fills me with great joy. I now know that I have truly made a difference in this cold world by making Mr. Bojangles all the warmer with a veritable cornucopia of hair, and it, in turn, has warmed my heart. I hope that my story will inspire you to do the same.
Except for putting old hair on bald cats. That’s my thing.