A Bad Idea

We have a newish kitty. We’ve had her for a couple of months by now, and the other two are still picking on her a good deal. She spends a lot of time under my chair, hanging out, and grabbing my shoelaces playfully when I walk by.

She comes out at night when I’ve settled into my chair, to drape herself over my arms and my keyboard, because what is a cat for if not to impede typing abilities.

During these lazy times, I have come to the very definite conclusion that Yuki’s nails are very very sharp. I would know, Im generally wearing shorts or thin pajama pants while hanging out in my chair, and she likes to knead.

Last night, I made the mistake of idling mentioning her sharp nails to brandus.

We have one of those Pedipaw things, which are supposed to be better for kitty nails and such. We’ve only really used it once, and before I realized it, he had turned it on, grabbed her claw, and started filing away.

Now, if you’re familiar with Pedipaws, there is this entire “training” you are supposed to do first. This involves things like, “how to get your cat comfortable with Pedipaws.”

Brandus neglected to follow the training.

Five seconds later, I’m sitting in shock in my chair, cat having levitated through my arms and over my head to get away from the spinning file of death, and brandus is rushing to get gauze and rubbing alcohol to keep my finger, thigh, belly, and head from bleeding all over everything.

Blood is a bitch to get out of fabric.

Next time, I’ll wield the weapon of filing terror, and BRANDUS can hold the cat.

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