Little Kitty Nutjob needed her claws trimmed.
Pretty soon she’s going to beat that creepy white-haired lady with the 30 inch nails and I’ll have to contact Guinness Book of World Records. Her claws are so long, curved and sharp that she sticks to everything she touches. It’s like watching two pieces of velcro strips trying to walk across each other. It’s like watching my new couch begin to look like a chia pet. It’s like watching blood pool in streaks along my arms.
No, wait. Blood IS pooling along my arms. Thank you little baby Jesus in your crib that I am not hemophiliac.
This should not have been a problem. I saw the vet trim her dainty appendages. Sure, she weighed 6-1/2 ounces then. But what’s another 8 pounds? I still outweigh her by a good 100 pounds. Or so. If you add another 30. ish. Easy breezy lemon squeezy I can do this. I am an ADULT. I am a RUNNER. H*ll, I’m in freeking menopause. That right there should get me through most things even if I do it sweating like a chicken at a Kentucky Fried convention.
Preparation is key. Prepare, or prepare to fail. Straighten that back, soldier. Are you a MAN or a MOUSE?
Clippers. Check
Long sleeve shirt. Check
Leather garden gloves. Check
Towel to wrap psycho cat. Check
Cat. Shit.
Where’s the damn cat.
Finally I extricate Psychic Psycho kitty from behind the washing machine, a hissing scratching ball of Edward Scissorhands furry fury and settle her firmly between my knees dammit ouch that’s her butt between my knees f*ck OUCH that’s her head knees SH*T how can she move that fast muther damn! OUCH! OUCH! quit! OUCH stop! it’s oKAY quit OUCH sh*t kitty I’m not trying to FOOOOCK ouch hurt you dammit GET off my HEAD aaaaaouch.
I heard Petco will trim your cat’s claws for you.
