Poor Smacky. My kitten, little black fuzzball, is the cutest kitten ever, but his claws are waaaaay too sharp. Not only has he been scratching me when we play, he’s started scratching himself to the point of bleeding. It’s a two-pronged (sorry, couldn’t help myself) problem: first, the claws, of course, and second, he’s gotten fleas. Ewwww. Poor guy. I was finding tiny little clumps of hair from him scratching himself, along with spots of blood, in his recent favorite grooming spot: my bathroom sink. Well, he could have chosen worse places, I guess. I just started noticing in the past couple of days.

So, today, I finally trimmed his nails.

I didn’t want to, because, if you watch him, his claws are his bestest friend. He climbs all over; when he runs he makes this tearing sound as his claws dig into and let go of the carpet; he leaps on to my back when I’m standing near something he can climb up on, causing me to scream in agony… he’s so cute.

So, like I said, I trimmed them up. I had to do it; he was hurting himself. I’m going to bathe him and hit him with some flea powder, but I didn’t want to do it while he still had open wounds. I wanted to give him time to heal a bit first. Wasn’t sure of the effects of poison (the flea powder) in his system. Not to mention soapy water on an open cut; shit, I know what that feels like.

He knew. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. He could feel it. Cats have very subtle facial expressions, at least to a human, but he looked, well, mad. He didn’t try to climb for at least an hour. He would reach out, cautiously, from the coffee table to the couch, and stretch across one leg at a time, where before he would just jump and trust his razor-sharp claws to catch hold. I couldn’t get him to jump up on his cat condo. I felt guilty and kept assuring him that I did it for his own good. I gave him a treat. I petted him and combed through his fur for fleas. I went out and bought him a new catnip mouse and a little electronic thing that’s motion- and sound-activated. But, no. He seems kind of… well… depressed.

But at least he doesn’t make those whimpering noises when he scratches himself anymore.

Poor Smacky.

I’ll have some pictures of him either later tonight or tomorrow. Stay tuned.