Normally you would see a post here about quilting, sewing, or crafting. I am going to tell a story about surviving my Father’s cat, while trimming it’s nails.
My dad’s cat is a true cat. One owner, she owns my dad. Likes affection from my dad. Only likes others in my dad’s absence if she has not been petted for 12 hours and you bear food. She is moody. She resides in the garage to be let out in the mornings to frolic (if a 10 year old cat can frolic) and let back in the garage for the evening to retire to her cat perch.
When my dad is out of town, I am cat sitter. I am formerly a cat lover but grew out of this phase as you get attached and then they die, go missing, or get hurt. And because they replicate themselves relatively easy, you can find a replacement whenever you wish.
So today was my day to shine as cat sitter extraordinaire! Lately this old cat has not wanted to leave the garage. Mom and dad were unsure why. They assumed she faired the winner in a dog attack and did not want to risk winning another battle but losing so much energy towards a fight. Mom also said she thought the cats nails needed to be trimmed. As that fat cat walks the garage floor you could hear her nails tap the concrete like she was a poodle when walking across the floor.
This persnickety cat likes to only be petted on the head and back. If you value your skin you learn to not touch her feet or belly. I am here to say I have survived a toe nail trimming incident. I held her like a football and with the same side as I was holding her I grabbed her back foot and stretched it to trim the nails. Apparently my approach may have stretched her hamstrings (do cats have hamstrings?). She disliked that tremendously and managed to get a good grip on my belly and did scratch me with two of her nails. So the next wrestling maneuver I tried was to just smoosh her down to the floor and make sure her face was not near mine for biting, as I was now on her level, and I managed to get the other foot trimmed. This cat is smart. She will probably forever be mad at me, and like an elephant never forget what I done. I proceeded to leave the garage and reached down to pet her and she started purring. I figure I have cured her cabin fever and she will want to frolic in the morning when I arrive and open the door.
I phoned my dad about this, as I have saved the vet from scratches. I have told him in order for me to do this again he will have to stock up on band-aides. You see not even my dad can touch her feet, so some kind of cat magic has occurred!