Ne Paw de Claw

I am a cat of the world. I have had many adventures in my short time on this planet, and I plan to have many more before I return to the Mother-ship. What, that's where we go, isn't it? The Woman called me a 'space cadet', so I just assumed...

What was I saying? Oh, right- adventures. Several of them have been very unpleasant, and have involved trips to the V.E.T. (The Woman always spells it like that when I'm around- like I don't know what she's talking about!). Things have been done to me, and I DON'T LIKE IT. They stick me with needles, they poke at my belly, and they say horrible things like "try to get a urine sample" and "give him a dose twice a day." Ick! I've had to have "oper-ray-shuns" too, and they were the WORST! One thing they did was (to borrow a phrase from my friend Rerun) remove my "man junk". Man, was I pissed! You go to sleep whole, you wake up and you're a nut with no nuts! (thanks to Hayley for that one) Grrrr. I guess it's OK, though; I don't even miss my bits anymore. The Woman has explained to me why it has to be done, and I've come to accept it. I've heard the crazy cats yowling in the yard many nights this summer, and I have no desire to join them. Plus, who needs to worry about the kitten-support payments?!! Not me, that's fur sure!

Another thing that happened to me, though, was that my claws got cut off, and those I do miss. A lot. That (and the eunuch-ization) happened before I knew my current People, but it still affects me. The good mews is that I can still hunt; even without my front claws, you couldn't find a better mouser than me. I have some very embarrassing problems, though, which I'm only going to tell you about because we're friends, OK? I'm a clumsy cat. OH, THE SHAME!!! I can't jump up onto a table (or counter... or window sill...) without sliding all the way across, taking out anything in my path. The People call me a "clumsy, Clouseau-esque puss," but they say it lovingly. I also have trouble jumping up to high places, because I can't grip on, and then I fall to the floor, THUMP, and pray no one was watching. The worst part is, my puffy-paws are still very sensitive. It hurts me to jump over the baby gate or down from a high place, and I usually ask for help to do it. I know, it's shameful; a cat needing help from People! But that's the way it is.

Oh, I get by alright without the ends of my toes. Yeah, they too the whole last section of my toes, right after the joint. You can see how that might affect a guy's balance! I'm a happy guy, and obviously I survived my days on the mean streets of Burlington, ON without my claws. I miss them, though. I guess my first People had reasons for what they did, but I wish they'd have trimmed my claws or put those snazzy claw-covers on (not the pink ones, though- Lord, not the PINK ONES!!!). Declawing is illegal in lots of countries- they say it's not nice, like clipping a dog's ears or tail to make them look pretty. I don't know- I'm just one cat. I'm just saying what happened to me.

If you want more information on declawing, check out www.declawing.com If your feline friends are already declawed, I don't want to make you feel bad; just don't make fun of us for being a little clumsy, OK? We're already embarrassed enough!

Jeez, that was depressing. How 'bout a joke? OK, here you go: A dog walked into a bar, and he was like, "ouch!" Get it? He waled into it, 'cause dogs are STUPID! HA HA HA HA!

That's better. PURRRRR....