Tiger is at the vet, being declawed.

He’s fuzzy and cute and I miss him. *sad sad* I keep turning around and thinking, “Where is Tiger?” and then I remember he’s at the vet. And I get all morose.

The vet will only do the front paws, which makes me kind of sad because I don’t think I have the heart to put Tiger through this again. And I kind of wanted all four paws done.

Anyway, I think the lady who took Tiger saw my distress (since I was waving bye-bye to him for, like, half a minute) because she said I could call to check up on him.

And she called me Mrs ________. Which was cool.

Oh, my poor fuzzy-pants snuggle-butt! How I miss you! *dances in an anxious circle*

So, here’s the million-dollar question. Why did we put our kitty through a painful surgery that demeans his cat-hood and makes him feel like doo-doo?

It could be because he’s tearing up the carpet. But, really, it’s because we don’t want him to have claws. It’s that simple. It doesn’t matter whether he’s good or bad with his claws — we’re taking them away from him.

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