Feline Friday: Spa Day!

Both Inkblot and Ember are getting on in years, but Inky has always been the crotchety kitty of the house. I try to remember to clip their claws on a regular basis, but sometimes I forget… until I hear Inky sticking to the carpet.

“I think…” Ember paused while she looked around excitedly, “I think it might be kitty spa day!”

Inkblot stopped her progress across the carpeted living room, “Why do you say that?”

“You’re sticking to the carpet again.”

Inkblot and Ember own every soft surface in the house.
Inkblot and Ember own every soft surface in the house.

It was true. As Inkblot tried to silently stalk through the house her claws tended to catch in the fibers. Sneaking anywhere in this condition was difficult – everywhere she went there was a faint “rip, rip, rip, rip” sound. At 13 years old it was getting harder and harder to retract her claws all the way.  “A manicure  wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.”

“If you didn’t squirm while the Mommy tried to clip your claws it wouldn’t take so long.”

“The humans cannot be led to believe that I enjoy it.”

“Psh. You like it, you like it.” Ember called out in a sing-song voice. When the Mommy entered the living room, she raised her voice. “Inky likes having her claws clipped!”

The female crouched down to pat Ember’s head, “Hello to you, too, Ember.”

Ember frowned and looked up at her Mommy with concern, was she going deaf? If that happened then the Mommy wouldn’t be able to hear her kitty dinner demands! “I didn’t say ‘Hello.'”

Inkblot had taken a seat in her basket and proceeded to wash her face with one delicate white paw, “How many times do I have to tell you that she doesn’t understand you? All she hears is ‘Meow, meow, meow.'”

The calico seemed to consider that for a moment, “Well, they are the ones who leave the house everyday while we snooze in our beds, hammocks and perches.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ember rolled onto her back and waved her paws in the air, “It certainly sounds to me like we’re the smarter ones!”


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