I was playing by her feet tonight. She was squeaking. She caught me and I scratched and scratched. She wanted to trim my claws. I was really really really mad. I hissed and growled at her. I ran away to hide.
I didn't want to do it. But she was hurting me. I really had to catch her to trim her claws. Since she's been getting closer to me lately, I didn't really want to do it, since I knew she'd be upset and freaked out. But I had to. So when she got close, I grabbed. OUCH! She scratched me so bad on my palms that she drew blood. I had no choice but to let her go so I could wash my hands and put some antibiotic and band aids on the scratches.
She found me, and closed the door to the sewing room. She moved some stuff around. I hid on the windowsill, behind the curtain. She was talking softly. "I'm sorry Millie, but I have to trim your claws. I promise I won't hurt you." Blah blah blah. I'm not buying it. I keep trying to make myself smaller and smaller, but she isn't going away. She touches me with that black thing covering her hand. Finally she picks me up. I'm not happy, and I try to get out, but she's got me good, "Millie, you're such a good girl..." Yeah right.
I had to put on some black gloves so I wouldn't get scratched. I trimmed her claws, telling her she was a good girl and that I wasn't going to hurt her. She didn't resist as much as I thought she would. When I was finished I carried her into the bathroom and we both got on the scale. She's gained a half a pound. I told her she was a good girl and let her go. ...but... I'm smarter than she is. I have control of the food around here. I knew she deserved a treat. So I went right into the kitchen and broke up a couple of pieces of roast beef into a small bowl.
Finally I got loose, and I ran the hell away from her. I was really really pissed. There was NO WAY I was gonna let her get close ever again. I heard her calling my name. I ignored her. But my nose couldn't ignore the smell of roast beef. She bribed me with a whole bowl of beef. Oh. Oh. Oh. She put it under the bureau. I am the only cat that can fit under the bureau.
I ate it all.
6 comments:
Millie honey, don't hate the lady. All of us kitties has to get our claws trimmed. Our mommy calls it good grooming so that we can look like little gentlemen. She picks us up and sits us in her lap and trims our claws, we get kissies wif each claw she cuts wifout us fidgeting. I get froug all 18 wif no prollem, but Miles is a fidgeter. He's purrty good though. It will get better when you gets used to it. We 'spect it about efurry 10 days. So don't be mad at the lady. - Sammy
Poor Millie. Just when you start to like the lady she grads you! Well, at least you got some roast beef.
I'd trade claw trimmin for roast beefs any day!
~~ Mini
Hello. When I first began trimming my Nina's claws, I'd wrap her in her beach towel and release one paw at a time so she couldn't scratch me. Guess you could say I swaddled her as if she were a human infant. Worked for us - might be worth a try. Suggest using Millie's blanket or something else familiar, unless you think it would put Millie off using the blanket. Thank goodness our little darlings don't need a manicure every day!
My mamma says I'm a good girl now for manicures, but I don't like them either! You be good, too, Millie! Treats always come for us when we're sweet and good, or at least look like sweet little good kitties!
Such a cute story, really enjoyed it. Poor Millie, although she got some yummy roast.
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