During cottage time, Soleil was shedding in great clumps, and so her brush came out and Uncle Dan did the honours:

She hates it when I brush her, however she seemed to thoroughly enjoy the ministrations from Dan.

Perhaps too thoroughly. Somebody else got jealous:

And if all else fails, steal the brush:

If I close my eyes, maybe they won't see me... A proud thief.

Let's rub it in a little:

A smug grin:

Who, me? Butter wouldn't melt...

Can't catch me.... I might give it up for a back scritch, though...