Colonel Meow gets Guinness hairiest cat title, scaring a housekeeping mom

Colonel Meow, the feline Internet sensation, receives the Guinness nod as world's hairiest cat. Children will see a tiny living plush toy to cuddle, while parents looking into the jaws of housekeeping.

Guinness World Records
Colonel Meow has earned his place in the new GUINNESS WORLD RECORDS 2014 book, out on September 12th, for having the longest fur on a cat. The Himalayan-Persian cross-breed, from Los Angeles, USA, has hair that reaches 9 in.

The world’s furriest feline, Colonel Meow the Himalayan-Persian mix that is about to rock the Guinness Book of World Records for it’s 9-inch hair is what all parents sees in their mind’s eye when their child asks, “Can we get a kitty? Puuuuuleeeeeeease?”

The child is seeing a tiny living plush toy to cuddle, while the parent is looking into the jaws of housekeeping.

The Himalayan-Persian mix is being entered in the Guinness Book 2014 edition, due out Sept. 12. The 10-pound (4.5-kilogram) cat has his own website, Facebook page, and YouTube channel with more than 2 million views.

The Colonel is owned by Anne Marie Avey and Eric Rosario of Los Angeles, who say it takes both of them to brush the cat's fur three times a week.

Sorry kids, but that paragraph alone is gonna set animal shelters back in adoptions for months to come as parents think about how cute little animals grow into furry responsibilities that kids don’t brush, feed, or care for.

This is a topic I know a little bit about because we have two cats, Bella and CatToo, and Wag the dog, a gynormous cadoodle (Lassie-style collie + full size poodle). Wag’s a massive hairball that walks and sheds. Actually, when it comes to animal companions like Colonel Meow and Wag the dog, “shed” seems too passive a word. What they really do is offgas fur the way the Peanuts character Pigpen traveled in a cloud of perpetual funk.

I fall into maniacal cackling worthy of a Terry Pratchett witch every time another parent says, “Oh, it’s half poodle so it doesn’t shed, right?”

This dog, that began as an adorable little mop of black hair, can now stand on his hind legs and put his paws on my shoulders. That’s like dancing with a salt-and-pepper Wookie that’s had a perm.

This dog sheds tumbleweeds the size of our cats. The cats shed only when I touch them.

We brush Wag multiple times per week and when it’s time to give him a haircut (which I do because it would cost $175 to be done professionally) it takes about four hours per day over a two-day period. A few years ago a friend who weaves actually took a bag of his shorn locks to add into her mix and gave them away as holiday gifts. Made me wish I had the Martha Stewart gene.

The irony is that I was the parent who advocated for each new furry addition because when it came right down to it, I am the mom of four boys and I love seeing them lavish attention, hugs, and cuddles on their furry companions.

I was looking for a path to nurturing for my sons and animals were the answer.

The dog is an exercise buddy, their “son,” while the two female cats are their “little girls” whom they spoil rotten.

My husband has been tough on the boys about responsibilities of walking, feeding, and cleaning up after the animals. Now, as they get older they love to take the dog for a run, he’s a “chick magnet.” They all compete for the status of whose feet the cats choose to weigh down at night.

Quin, 9, told his grandmother in a recent phone conversation, “Mom gave Wag a haircut and we can stuff two pillows with his hair! Maybe we can start saving it and make beds for the cats.”

Maybe when Colonel Meow is brushed they can save the fur for knitting into sweaters or stuffing dog beds. A cattage industry is born.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to