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 Declaw this!
Whatzup y'all. Hide 'em if ya got 'em, cause the Splattman is
in da house and he's smoking. December is the pits for us cats.
Two-leggers always think that we give two chestnuts about Christmas.
Hey go put antlers on Rover he'd dig that, he's a dog anyway.
Seems, over here in the colonies, as soon as two-leggers stuff
themselves full of turkey for Thanksgiving something happens and
they start acting like 'Benny the Bell' from down in the alley.
A few years ago Benny went up in a church tower to score some
wing, but the bird outsmarted Benny and when he leaped, the bird
flew away at just the very last moment, the bell started to swing
and Benny's head collided with the bell knocker. He scrambled
to grab the rope attached to the bell handle but the knocker swung
back and knocked him knocked off the rope, so Benny fell to the
pavement head first, shattering yet another myth. Cats always
land on their feet. Well, ever since then whenever Benny hears
a bell or even keys rattling he goes bonkers. Just like the two-leggers
'round the Yuletide season.
This is my first Christmas with Marian my new two-legger. Now
I don't want to seem ungrateful, 'cause she rescued me from the
shelter after the other family dumped me and took the Queen back
to Toronto. But I'll be damned if I am going to let her dress
me up in a Santa Clause outfit. I maybe neutered but I ain't no
Rupaul. I've seen those pictures she got of my predecessor dressed
up like a New Orleans Mardi Gras float queen, no wonder he ran
right under a car took out his nine in one fell swoop.
I said I was smoking but now am I scorching. Tom the butcher,
now he got that name 'cause his two legger owns a meat and fish
shop down on the main drag. He dropped into the poker game the
other night looking a bit out of sorts and limping. We all thought
that maybe he got a going over from one of the feral alley cats
over a bad debt or something. But it was worse than that. At least
with the boys in the alley you recover and then you get your satisfaction
when all of us guys go down to the alley as a gang and outnumber
the poor slob, but this was the ultimate in mutilation, his two-legger
had him declawed.
Seems there was a children's birthday party at his house and his
two-legger's wife got the brilliant idea to dress Tom up like
a clown. Hey, here we go again more dressing up. So this one kid
at the party kept pulling Tom's tail and trying to drag him by
it. Damn, can't blame the kid, he's all doped up from sugar and
the other chemicals they add to kiddy stuff. Well I guess the
kid twisted Tom's tail once too often and Tom pawed him right
across the face. The blood starts flowing, the kid is screaming,
all the adult two-leggers are getting lynch and hang attitudes
and before you know it, Tom is tried and sentenced to life without
parole.
Yeah, folks, that's usually the way it goes, two-leggers mess
up, can't really use the right word here, and the four leggers
suffer the consequences. Declawing is abuse folks, we can live
without the lugnuts but we can't survive without our natural means
of defense. Its like disbanding the Pentagon, firing the arm forces
and making self defense of any sort punishable by death. And then
there is the pain involved. Its like having a hundreds of tiny
daggers stabbing our paws every time we step. Lets not discuss
the infection. Am I getting thru to ya yet. If not, here is something
to close your eyes and ponder before you declaw, its three a.m
and you are walking down a dark alley, nude. Got the picture?
I thought you would.
So before you declaw and disarm, remember primarily that you and
us, are both animals and like some of you our rationality and
thought processing is scrambled sometimes. So train the children
to respect us as equals and not treat us like mechanical toys.
Oh, and that thing about the furniture, buy us a good scratching
post or two and train us to use it, you trained us to go potty
where its convenient for you. Didn't ya?
Hey, I've given my sermon, so stick a fork in the Splattman, I'm
done. Oops! I didn't say that. See ya next time, I'm history.
Until next time Meoow and Grrr.
Splatt Deekatt
Email me
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