The morning was dark and I felt too lazy to flip on the lights. As I lounged on the couch and sipped from a mug of hot coffee, Miss Kitty purred next to me. She looked lovingly up at me when I scratched behind her ears, pleased to have company for the day.
I set my mug down on the table next to the couch and noticed a pair of forgotten nail clippers, abandoned by my husband after the previous night’s project (his toes). It suddenly occurred to me as the perfect time to trim Miss Kitty’s nails. The cat, the tool, and the time were practically bundled up and tied with a bow for me. I would be a fool to ignore the chance to snip her claws, I foolishly thought.
“Miss Kitty,” I said, petting her soft, white head. “It’s time to go to the beauty shop and get your nails done.”
Her loving look turned to one of suspicion as soon as I picked up the nail clippers and tucked her underneath of my arm into a gentle but iron-strong hold. She stopped purring and began squirming, wriggling back and forth, desperate to escape. She knew what it meant to “go to the beauty shop” and it always ended in sore paws.
“Not so fast, Miss Kitty,” I said and tightened my grip.
I held her little paw in my hand and squeezed out the first claw. She yanked her paw back and I lost my grip. It was a wrestling match, woman vs. cat, and I’m sorry to say we were both losers. In the struggle, I snipped one nail too close to the quick. Miss Kitty screamed like a Hell demon and stared at me with wild and untrusting eyes. I shrieked in surprise and she scratched me, afraid of more nail trimming.
She has not forgotten about the experience yet, but appears to have forgiven me with the help of Whisker Lickin’ treats, excessive apologizing, and more head scratching. I knew we were on the mend when she started to purr again, and fell asleep next to me for a nap later in the day. If only forgiveness was as easy with humans, to be cut to the quick and still able to forgive, but never to forget. Remembering is what makes us human, right?