It's pretty much impossible these days to adopt a cat without getting the "declawing" lecture. That's right, no one wants you to declaw a cat anymore. You get the story of how it's mutilation and major surgery. You're supposed to live with ruined furniture and accidental scratches to your person (some pretty nasty) and holes in your sweaters and clothing. Live with it for, say, 15 years.
Well, you know, we're not planning to do that. Live with ruined furniture, scratches to our unknowing daughters, and holes in clothing, I mean. We're planning on getting the kittens declawed shortly, about the time they turn six months old.
We bought them scratching boxes that they're enjoying, but almost every night, Simon comes and jumps up on our bed to get some love. I don't pet kitties in the middle of the night (why set them up with that expectation, are you nuts?). So Simon crawls under the covers between me and Greg and settles down by my knee. He then proceeds to knead with his front paws, sending needle sharp little claws into me while purring madly.
And then I move my knee away, dig him out from below the covers, and set him or push him onto the floor. I'm nice, too, about doing that--compared to Greg who has been known to throw cats away from him. Won't it be nicer for everyone involved for the cats to be loved more thoroughly?
After the whole mutilation thing is over, I mean.
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