Mike dropped Forrest off at the vet this morning to get his vaccines (since he was too sickly with ringworm to get them done last time), get neutered, and also declawed.
That process that I’m so against, that’s so inhumane and cruel.
But I’m at my wit’s end. He’s aggressive and getting more so each day. Mike and I can fend him off (most of the time), but it’s taking it’s toll on our other cat, Guinness, who now sleeps with one eye open. Forrest isn’t a mean cat, he just wants to play. But he takes it too far and doesn’t know when to stop. He attacks Guinness relentlessly, even sinking his teeth into her neck. The teeth we can’t do anything about, but the claws . . .I’m finally ready to admit they have to go.
We’ve been pretty good about keeping the Soft Claws on him, but they’re not enough. The other night he worked his way under our leather rocker/recliner and tried to claw his way out from the inside. It’s like our chair was possessed by an alien–he’s one strong little cat. If we would have let him keep going, he would have punched through the leather despite having the Soft Claws on.
But still, I’m feeling guilty and second-guessing our decision to have this done. We can’t pick him up until tomorrow, so tonight (after trick-or-treat!) is going to be rough. Without Forrest, our house will be quiet and peaceful. Giving me even more time to wonder if we did the right thing.
Maybe I’ll spend that time playing catch-up and writing a long rambling post about my adventures over the past few weeks. . . .