Getting to the Root of Fur

First thing in the morning, my mind is on autopilot. I’m mostly relying on muscle memory to get me through the routine of feeding the cats, washing up, and getting dressed as my brain boots up. But the other day an unexpected question smacked me out of my usual stupor. On that particular morning I needed to shave, and my cat Margarita jumped up onto the sink to see what strange thing I was doing. When I looked into the sink and saw the scraped-off stubble, with my furry assistant trying to swat the stream of water from the faucet, I was struck by the unique body covering that signifies that the cat and I are part of the same

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