On Declawing

I know many of you guys have seen my claws. So beautiful, so thick and strong were they! So natural looking! (Isn't 'natural looking' such a great contradiction in terms, btw?) But they are gone, at least for now. Alli Cat has been declawed.

I thought it would be a great idea. My damn nails kept getting chipped by my sporting endeavors, and every time I went in for a manicure I worried about getting Hepatitis C from the sharp objects Madame Nail likes to wield. But now I feel like half of a whole. I can't pick up slides anymore. I can't even open a soda can properly, since my nails are pretty much clipped down to the quick. I have the hands of a nail-biting twelve year old girl.

I miss being able to scratch an itch and have it resolved immediately. The only thing I don't really miss is the appearance. There's something about having long nails, like having long hair, that is strangely appealing. It says to potential suitors, "Hey, I'm healthy and eat plenty of protein. I would be a great mother to your children." At least, this is what Nancy Etkoff says on the issue. For the record, I did not get my claws in order to advertise my sexual readiness.

On the other hand, I'm really looking forward to riding my bike and not having the end of my glove fingers straining against each claw. I'm going to enjoy making cookies without having to scrub my nails with a brush afterwards. I wasn't cut out for this claw business. Even though my natural nails will probably be scrappy for a while, until they grow out, I kind of like it-- it makes me look like a devil-may-care tomboy. I think that suits me better than manicured nails anyway-- after all, claws are for pussies. ;o)