The human goes to their cat wearing the equivalent of chainmail and has a very tiny scissor in their hands. When their friend looks as them quizzically, they see the cat HATES getting its claws trimmed. But, necessary evils, unfortunately. -- Anon Guest
The Humans are full of weird sayings. A favourite of Human Bruk was, "It's better to be prepared than be embarrassed." And that made the rest of the crew on the Halcyon Curiosity wonder why their Human kept the modern equivalent of an entire chainmail suit.
Until it came time to groom his cat.
Preparation for which included the aforementioned suit, some catnip, the expensive kitty treats, and some truly hefty kitty tranquilisers. Companion Jupp entered after the tranquilisers, but before the treats. Human Bruk was in his chainmail, holding his cat in an assortment of towels, and very carefully using a set of special clippers on each of the cat's feet. At each snip of the clippers, the cat would vent a howling growl as it continued to bite whatever parts of Bruk's anatomy that it could reach.
Once the front paws were done, Bruk re-wrapped them and exposed the hind legs.
"Oh great," said Bruk, smiling in spite of the ongoing battle. "I always need three hands for this. Hold 'em steady would you. Keep away from the teeth."
Deathworlders!
They did love their fun-sized predators as pets. "I had thought that your cat was a snuggle-bug?"
"Not when I'm cutting the claws." Snip. YyyaaaoooOOOOWWWLLL. "Despite my best efforts otherwise, I need to do this." Snip. SnaaARRAARRRLlll. "And Sminkie freaking hates getting a manicure." Snip. MEEAAAUUUUWWWW! "Anyone else would think I'm murdering her."
"She's certainly acting like you're murdering her."
"It doesn't even hurt," said Bruk, between clipping and howls. And bite attempts. "I'm clipping off the dead nail tips. It's for her own good, but you can not tell her that."
The clipping done, Bruk bundled his cat into the towels, letting the clipper drop. Still holding the cat, he removed a strip around one of his couches. "Stand back," he warned. He placed Sminkie down, towels and all, and leaped away.
Sminkie bolted for the underside of the couch, hissing and snarling.
Bruk removed his gloves and prepared a slice of printed salmon and a small saucer of cream. Each placed near the couch and pushed under with a long stick.
"She'll forgive me in an hour or two," said Bruk. "Poor little cuddle-bug needs her scritchies." In the meantime, the armour went back to its stand.
"And she won't be... scritching... you?" asked Jupp.
"Nah, I've been through this dozens of times. She'll come out when she's lonely."
Under the couch, the growling stopped in favour of soft ingestion noises.
[Photo by Abstral Official on Unsplash]
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