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Abstract

r ears and growled.I believe that one senior vet was ready to do the trimming while the other two observed.“I’m going to need help,” she said to her cohorts.Penny twisted and gyrated. I think she wanted to strike a “bread loaf” yoga pose, in which the cat hides all of her toes underneath.<figure id="dc5e"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*lFTWzqBmqWx8Iv6z9lmh5A.jpeg"><figcaption>This was Penny’s original intent, the non-violent “bread loaf” yoga pose. Gandhi would have approved, I’m sure. (Photo by author)</figcaption></figure>Instead, Penny attempted to take out the leader of her opposition. I saw her strategy. She wanted to neutralize the foe she faced.I watched with morbid fascination. I put out my hand to try to calm her. “It’s okay, girl.”Instead, I saw the fury on my feline’s face. I thought Wolverine had autographed my hand, judging from the crimson streaks.“Sir, just step back.”Liking all the remaining blood I still had, I obeyed.In my head, the 1974 Carl Douglas hit “Kung Fu Fighting” started playing. He noted that those “cats” were fast as lightning.“Would you reach me the largest bath towel you can find?” asked vet #2.The assistant returned with a te

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nt-sized light green towel.The two vets worked in tandem. The senior member nodded and looked my crazy cat in the eyes. “Penny? Penny?”Penny slowed down to decipher the friendliness of the claw-cutting woman.“Got her!” proclaimed her partner. “That’s one good-looking cat burrito all wrapped up.”Pat-pat-pat.The cat manicurist was feeling for one of four paws, in hopes of slipping just one leg at a time out of her swaddling clothes.“Only one left,” panted the vet.No! Penny wriggled out of her grasp. Even though my cat couldn’t see her opponents, she was fighting by SOUND. Claws protruding, the paw of doom swung in the direction of each woman.But a valiant grab subdued Penny’s final weapon. Four snips plus one dewclaw trimmed and the humans pumped their fists in a fast victory celebration.I congratulated each cat beautician. I scooped Penny in my arms. She seemed to be coming out of her ninja trance.Of course, every pet owner wants a docile, well-mannered cat. But I was sure that if I was ever in a brawl, this was the girl who’d always have my back.Want to never miss a Tom Tale again. <a href="https://medium.com/@domorebemoreNOW">Simply subscribe</a>. Then, rest easy!</article></body>

THREE HUMANS, ONE FELINE?

My Cat’s Professional Wrestler Showmanship Impresses Me

“Go trim someone else’s claws, Lady!”

Once, I thought this photo looked like Penny trying to hula. Now, I think she was devising a mixed martial arts defense, just in case. (Photo by author)

Penny and I have been a cat-human duo for more than five years.

Although she’ll bring cat toys to place beside my pillow when I sleep, Penny has a darker, contrary side. She does a “greased pig” imitation whenever I try to trim even one claw.

I needed professional help.

When I brought her in for her yearly exam, I requested that Penny get a claw-trimming, too. (I think calling it a “paw-dicure” is funny. She has other ideas.)

Penny was facing three experienced foes: two veterans and a vet tech assistant.

The trio looked at her, top, bottom and sideways. Then, one vet produced the claw trimmer.

“Okay, dear,” said the vet. “Time to get your nails done.”

I laughed. Not Penny. She flattened her ears and growled.

I believe that one senior vet was ready to do the trimming while the other two observed.

“I’m going to need help,” she said to her cohorts.

Penny twisted and gyrated. I think she wanted to strike a “bread loaf” yoga pose, in which the cat hides all of her toes underneath.

This was Penny’s original intent, the non-violent “bread loaf” yoga pose. Gandhi would have approved, I’m sure. (Photo by author)

Instead, Penny attempted to take out the leader of her opposition. I saw her strategy. She wanted to neutralize the foe she faced.

I watched with morbid fascination. I put out my hand to try to calm her. “It’s okay, girl.”

Instead, I saw the fury on my feline’s face. I thought Wolverine had autographed my hand, judging from the crimson streaks.

“Sir, just step back.”

Liking all the remaining blood I still had, I obeyed.

In my head, the 1974 Carl Douglas hit “Kung Fu Fighting” started playing. He noted that those “cats” were fast as lightning.

“Would you reach me the largest bath towel you can find?” asked vet #2.

The assistant returned with a tent-sized light green towel.

The two vets worked in tandem. The senior member nodded and looked my crazy cat in the eyes. “Penny? Penny?”

Penny slowed down to decipher the friendliness of the claw-cutting woman.

“Got her!” proclaimed her partner. “That’s one good-looking cat burrito all wrapped up.”

Pat-pat-pat.

The cat manicurist was feeling for one of four paws, in hopes of slipping just one leg at a time out of her swaddling clothes.

“Only one left,” panted the vet.

No! Penny wriggled out of her grasp. Even though my cat couldn’t see her opponents, she was fighting by SOUND. Claws protruding, the paw of doom swung in the direction of each woman.

But a valiant grab subdued Penny’s final weapon. Four snips plus one dewclaw trimmed and the humans pumped their fists in a fast victory celebration.

I congratulated each cat beautician. I scooped Penny in my arms. She seemed to be coming out of her ninja trance.

Of course, every pet owner wants a docile, well-mannered cat. But I was sure that if I was ever in a brawl, this was the girl who’d always have my back.

Want to never miss a Tom Tale again. Simply subscribe. Then, rest easy!