Assuming you read this the day after I write it (which is what most of you do), by the time you read this, Etta and Gus will be at the vet to be declawed.
Oh, there are probably some of you bemoaning the fact that we’re taking away one of the cats’ natural defenses, all in the name of saving the furniture, area rugs, clothing, and our skin. Heck, even Patrick said that he has qualms about doing it. But I moved to quash those right away.
I have had cats almost all of my life. They have all been declawed, and within a few days of having it done, have shown no inclination to want them back, let alone needing them. Etta and Gus, like all of the cats who have come before them in my life, will live their lives comfortable ensconced in our home, in a nice warm house, with food and water provided, and absolutely no need for them to hunt, gather, or even worry about future survival out in the wild. In short, their lifestyle negates the need for the front claws. And it will be nice to have them out.
They’re both aggressive scratchers, and do the kneading thing without a thought. So having the claws out in order to avoid damage to things and people will be a relief.
We’ll get them back home Thursday after work. They’ll be happy to see us, sure, and probably a little irritated. But soon after, they’ll both be just fine and will never remember having claws.
I’ll keep you updated.
See you tomorrow.