Alexandra Bogdanovic's Blog: That's life... - Posts Tagged "trust"
A 'doghouse' confession
I have a confession to make. I committed an egregious sin this week...
But before we go any further, let me set the record straight. It is not a sin worthy of disclosure to a priest, nor is it anything morally reprehensible.
Come to think of it, Eli is probably the only one who really thinks I've committed a sin at all. But before we go any further, there's something you should know about Eli. He's my cat. And the "sin" I committed was trying to clip his claws.
Now those of you who don't have pets -- or more specifically, those of you who don't have cats -- are probably wondering why that's such a big deal. Just trust me, it is.
For my 8-1/2 year-old buff and white American Domestic Short Hair cat, claw clipping is the single worst thing that can possibly happen. Well, aside from missing a meal, of course.
In fact Eli, who also weighs in at a relatively hefty 14 pounds, hates having his claws clipped so much that his old vet had to sedate him in order to get the job done.
To make a long story short, let's just say that for various reasons Eli hasn't been to the vet for a while. And let's just say that for reasons known only to him, he failed to heed repeated warnings about sharpening his claws on the sofa.
So when he sunk his claws into the sofa on Wednesday night, I'd finally had enough. I picked him up, put him in my lap, and successfully clipped one claw. Eli then had what can only be described as a screaming, yowling, hissy fit. He also used a few of his exceedingly long claws to express his displeasure.
Wounded, I decided the fight wasn't worthwhile, and let him go. Not surprisingly, with tail lashing and hackles raised, he stalked away.
And not surprisingly, I felt horrible about what happened. I tried to give him his space. I tried to apologize. But he rebuffed each attempt with flattened ears and a warning hiss. After several hours, he deigned to eat some treats out of my hand, but rejected further peace offerings.
"Wow, he's really mad," I told my mom. "I guess I'm really in the doghouse."
Until next time, "That's life..."
But before we go any further, let me set the record straight. It is not a sin worthy of disclosure to a priest, nor is it anything morally reprehensible.
Come to think of it, Eli is probably the only one who really thinks I've committed a sin at all. But before we go any further, there's something you should know about Eli. He's my cat. And the "sin" I committed was trying to clip his claws.
Now those of you who don't have pets -- or more specifically, those of you who don't have cats -- are probably wondering why that's such a big deal. Just trust me, it is.
For my 8-1/2 year-old buff and white American Domestic Short Hair cat, claw clipping is the single worst thing that can possibly happen. Well, aside from missing a meal, of course.
In fact Eli, who also weighs in at a relatively hefty 14 pounds, hates having his claws clipped so much that his old vet had to sedate him in order to get the job done.
To make a long story short, let's just say that for various reasons Eli hasn't been to the vet for a while. And let's just say that for reasons known only to him, he failed to heed repeated warnings about sharpening his claws on the sofa.
So when he sunk his claws into the sofa on Wednesday night, I'd finally had enough. I picked him up, put him in my lap, and successfully clipped one claw. Eli then had what can only be described as a screaming, yowling, hissy fit. He also used a few of his exceedingly long claws to express his displeasure.
Wounded, I decided the fight wasn't worthwhile, and let him go. Not surprisingly, with tail lashing and hackles raised, he stalked away.
And not surprisingly, I felt horrible about what happened. I tried to give him his space. I tried to apologize. But he rebuffed each attempt with flattened ears and a warning hiss. After several hours, he deigned to eat some treats out of my hand, but rejected further peace offerings.
"Wow, he's really mad," I told my mom. "I guess I'm really in the doghouse."
Until next time, "That's life..."
That's life...
All you may -- or may not -- want to know about my adventures as an author and other stuff.
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