Bug, our 11-year old, 13 pound British Longhair, is the most amiable cat in the world--except when we have to shave him. One January day, we fortified ourselves with breakfast and set about spending the afternoon--Shaving Bug. My husband put on his leather gardening gloves as I manned the electric shears and the sisssors. Grappling Bug, hubby turned him around on his back and from one side to the other, as Bug threatened mahem and death on us. We took a break for lunch, and shaved some more. Then we took another break, and shaved some more. Three hours later, with one really pissed off Persian-type cat on our hands (or in my husband's hands) we declared Bug---shaved. Five minutes after being shaved, Bug attempted to bite my husband, just to remind him of who was boss. Frankly, we're off the Christmas list, you know? I think Bug has dialed for the police, the SPCA and .. his cat lawyer. Well, an hour later, he was wrapping himself around our ankles again, a relatively well-shaved cat. All has been forgiven--until the next time.