Meet Quasimodo...The Persian Cat Everyone Falls in Love With

Here, we observe the majestic Persian cat, a breed lovingly engineered to resemble a Victorian aristocrat who has just received terrible news. Today's specimen is Quasimodo. Despite his expression suggesting he's drafting a formal complaint, Quasimodo remains surprisingly cooperative as I trim his nails. However, for the preservation of my fingers, he is fitted with a cone of caution. Not because I expect violence, but because I enjoy leaving with the same number of blood vessels as I arrived with. Quasimodo has developed a few mats, so today, he'll be receiving the classic lion cut, a hairstyle that says, I lost a fight with a hedge trimmer. The shave begins peacefully, until we reach the back legs. Notice the elegant, evasive maneuvers. Rather than attacking, he simply attempts to melt into another dimension. You've got dirty eyeballs. He has a really bad case of stud tail, so I'm going to do my best to try and help that, but it's pretty rough. Stud tail is actually the overproduction of oils from glands at the base of the tail. In unneutered males, hormones can turn this area into what can only be described as a biological deep fryer. He's like, no thank you. It's okay. A cat that doesn't want to be somewhere is very strong. Don't scratch me. Within moments, the water transforms into a rich shade of good grief. This color wasn't added. It regrettably came with the cat. I can't tell if this is dirt, or if he peed in here, but I don't smell pee. But if this is dirt, he is very dirty. You're a dirty boy. Oh, yeah. He's peeing now. Tail is nasty. Okay, you go over here for a second. The stuff in the comb is from his tail. It's gross. Let's go into the hair fryer. After a thorough rinse and towel dry, Quasimodo heads into the fluff dryer. Much like a rotisserie chicken, he will now slowly rotate until fully cooked. Once adequately baked, he returns for the finishing touches. Ready? I go over the entire haircut one final time with my 10 blade, smoothing everything out until he looks significantly less like he lost an argument with a lawnmower. Then, he gives us a wink. Not because he appreciates my work, but because even he knows he is devastatingly handsome. Be gentle in his armpits so that I don't snag them. A quick comb through with the butter comb and a tidy up of the toe beans. And just like that, Quasimodo has been transformed from slightly haunted attic creature into a respectable gentleman. Okay, you're all done. Thank you. He leaves cleaner and with exactly the same amount of judgment for every human he's ever met. Good boy. Please come again.