I was asleep, cuddled up on the couch next to my Dad when I sensed my Mother reach over to the end table and pick up the torture device-the nail clippers. Needless to say, and faithful blog readers will already know this, but I feel the need to stress that I really, really hate having my feet touched and my nails clipped. Oh, I know, I know-it's all in my head. "I couldn't possibly feel anything, see it doesn't hurt." WHAT DO THE HUMANS KNOW?! I say, do they have claws? NO! And do they know what it feels like to have a claw cut? Didn't think so. Ok. So, I guess it doesn't hurt too much. It just depends.
You see, several weeks ago, Mommy took me to the vet to have my bum leg checked out and she told the vet to trim my nails. Well, things happened and I was terrified and there was no way I was letting them come near me again, especially after they puffed medicine up my nose.
The Dr. told Mom that she needed to get me used to the nail clippers again.
Since then, the nail clippers have stayed on the end table to remind me how cruel my parents can be. They'll touch my feet and if that goes well, they'll hold the nail clippers up for me to see. When I don't freak out, they start rubbing it on my paw and if I don't have a panic attack they'll try to cut my nail. They think it is some huge victory if they cut off a little, tiny, tiny piece of my nail. Then they start praising me and giving me treats and I soak it all up and try to get more treats. How, I love the praise! But then, it occurs to me why I got the praise in the first place. How, I abhor those nail clippers!
Back to my story. I sensed Mother pick up the nail clippers, but I was half asleep dreaming about that cute yorkie I met at the dog park. I dreamt I reached up with my paw to slap her so she'd chase me when all of a sudden I woke up screaming and terrified!
That woman clipped my nail!!!! And not only that, it hurt! You know what she said? "Don't worry, I think it just scared him. I think he's OK. Maybe I shouldn't blindside him like that." Oooh, ya think?!
Next thing I know, I'm bleeding. Deja vu anyone? Not only that, but they didn't even have styptic powder. Next thing, I know they're shoving my foot into a small bowl of flour.
They locked me in the kitchen and dredged my paw in flour. OK. So, I'll be honest. They cut my quick, but just barely. As soon as I saw the flour, I forgot all about the nail that was clipped. I focused my attention on that flour. I made a big mess on the flour, err because of that woman. All the loose flour fell off of my paw, so I licked it up. And, when the woman wasn't looking, I put my face in the bowl to eat the flour.
I was having a great day. My parents were home for the evening, I cleaned off their coffee table for them to make room for the french fries, ate french fries and then got my nails clipped. I don't think that's fair! I wish, they ate out that night and didn't come home till bed time!