It's happened. We've become That Couple. The couple who gleefully purchases costumes for their pets, gets the pets into the clothing through a complicated system of treats and half-nelsons, and documents the pets' systematic humiliation with photos.
No, we don't have kids. Why do you ask?
We'd noticed the cats getting a little chilly in their brief outdoor forays, so we jokingly said we should get them little jackets. Well, at first we were joking, but then one of us -- I don't remember who, although I suspect it was me -- offered to see what kind of options for cat outerwear might be available. So the preposterous concept became first a reality, then an inevitability. I imagine a great many sexual missteps and murders are set in motion the same way.
Jason suggested a letter jacket for Mojo, and I thought that would be awesome. As usual, he was absolutely right.
If you think the jacket fits him a little funny, especially in the shoulder region, you're right. That's because it isn't made for cats; it's made for dogs. I measured the cats to see what size the torture implements should be, and made the unnerving discovery that Emily, our squishy little girl, is 17 inches from neck to tail, with a 19-inch circumference. This puts her outside the realm of "cat" in terms of sizing.
Mojo, however, is 19 inches long and 22 inches around! (For comparison, my best friend's 16-year-old daughter is also 22 inches around.) We weren't trying to win a Biggest Damn Cat In The Universe contest, but I think we've got a shot. So we ordered the fleece jacket in "Dog - Medium." (I've taken to calling the Moj "Medium Dog" since then.)
But it seems that circumference isn't the only dimension that matters in terms of pet clothing. The jacket is too roomy in the shoulders, so it bunches up around his little kitty elbows. (Sad but true: I have a Master's degree from an Ivy League university, and "dogs are built differently than cats" was news to me. I can't get right.) Mojo took a few hunkering steps in his jacket, made a rather piteous meow, then tumped over onto his side and looked at us with confusion and resentment. We're used to that.
For Emily, we decided to go with a fringed poncho. From the moment the image entered our minds, we were enchanted by it. It's the ultimate fussy-cold-little-lady garment, and we figured it would make her look like a feline tea cozy. We awaited its arrival with Christmas-morning-like anticipation, and we weren't completely disappointed.
Unfortunately, this enchanting number was only available in two dog sizes: Extra Small/Small and Medium/Large. So I wound up ordering Emily a poncho that could, conceivably, fit a largish spaniel. There's a fair amount of excess fabric on this one, and even more play in the velcro strap that goes around her tummy. When I first put it on her, Emily just sat there immobilized, a pitiful "Why are you doing this to me?" look on her face. I went upstairs to get the camera, but by the time I was downstairs, she was running around un-em-poncho-ed. The smaller size has already been ordered; this sight is too cute to let her wriggle out of so easily.
For some reason, the phrase "Breck girl" comes to mind when I see this shot. I think it's the roll-neck that does it.
After I'd taken these pictures and gotten the poncho off of Emily, Mojo jumped up onto the desk to see what was going on. Emily reached over and swatted him on the top of his head. I know she'll make me pay for this sooner or later, but in the meantime, I've got these lovely pictures to make it all worthwhile.