Baby Kitty and I have been holed up in the bedroom for the last two days recuperating. Me, from the flu ... or whatever nasty, phlem-filled, hacky, sneezy, never-ending sickness this is, and Baby Kitty, from the cruel operation of being declawed. Yes, we declawed our cat. I feel terrible. I wish I could take it back. But, considering what we've been through with Baby Kitty, declawing was the only option.
I've been wanting to write about Baby Kitty for a long time, but I was worried that I would jinx her stay with us. We almost gave her away about ten times. Every time I thought she had finally become a member of our home she would climb another set of curtains, rip another scratch through our leather chairs, pee on the floor ... again, give me a black eye, or take another chunk out of my poor, scratched up hands. I actually got used to the sting of lotion rubbed into the numerous scratch wounds spread over my body. And, whoever heard of a cat that doesn't use a litter box?
The problem with Baby Kitty was that she was not a domestic cat. She was abandoned behind a Forza Coffee, and who knows where her mother came from or went, but Baby Kitty did not trust humans. She would do everything she could do refuse the love and attention we were trying to give her. It has taken a very long time and a lot of patience, but we finally earned her trust and she is truly a member of our family. She will finally sit with us, loves to be pet, and -thankfully - always uses the litter box. She is still more standoffish than cats I've had in the past, but I know she feels safe here. If she ever gets locked outside she begs desperately to come back in. Our home has finally become her home. Unfortunately, it has been impossible to break her of the habit of using her claws - she uses them on furniture and people alike - so this week we took her to the vet (who promptly asked - "oh, is this the psychotic cat?") and had those weapons removed. I just hope she is as playful as ever when she's fully recuperated...
