My cat Smokey is an old guy now, of about 15 years.
Unfortunately, he can no longer do as good a job grooming himself as he could in his youth.
While my husband and I brush him faithfully, we also sometimes have to use the manicuring scissors to cut a knot out of his fur.
Smoke is not crazy about having this done, but we really have no choice. We also have to trim Smokey's claws and he doesn't like that either. Smokey is not, nor has he ever been, a sweet kitty. In fact, he's something of a terrorist cat who scares the hell out of my two big dogs.
I told my spouse that Smokey had knots in his fur and we needed to clean them up after he got through clipping the the cat's nails. I walked out of the room for a few moments. When I got back upstairs carrying the manicure scissors, I found Alex had a pair of huge orange scissors in his hand and he had already cut out huge chunks of Smokey's black fur.
"What are you doing?" I screamed. Alex looked confused and said "You said you wanted to get rid of the knots." The poor cat now looks like the victim of some weird religious cult that mutilates cat's fur as a form of sacrifice.
I will never again allow Alex to do anything requiring scissors, or particularly good sense either.