I'm the Bad Man.

Okay. So. Heart rate still a little elevated. Breathe.

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Suki just scratched Amoryn.

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To give you some context, it wasn't like the evil Siamese in "Lady & The Tramp"; it was because he was trying to jump onto me as I was carrying her upstairs to put her down for her morning nap. But still! He knows that it's Not Okay To Jump On Me When I Have The Baby. Or at least I thought his little brain had made that connection, since it has been etablished since prior to Am's birth.

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(Suki's pointy little feet landing *bwonk* on my belly in the last trimester? Not So Cool, Dude.)

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Apparently the lack of affection has finally driven him to desperate measures. So, after following me from the basement to the main floor to the upstairs stairwell, he decided to ignore my vague promises of "Later, Buddy", and take matters into his own paws.

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Unfortunately, Amoryn's head was in the way of his plan. Now, it's not a deep & bloody scratch; it's one of those scratches that leaves a raised welt, but no permanent mar, or even broken skin. But it's long, and runs from under her eye to her ear, and it! woke! her! up!!!! In a bad way! And then I had to Bactine it! And that woke her again & made her cry! And it was all very bad!

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Including the part where I dumped Suki unceremoniously down, & then smacked him once I reached the top of the stairs, after looking at Am's little scratch. And it wasn't a 'measured punishment' smack; it was more of a 'wrath of mamma' smite. I smote my cat.

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So. I am the bad man, in that I hit my cat, when all he wanted was some love. (He's so full of love! Has lots of love to give! Will love anyone! Everyone! I'd say he's a kitty whore, but really, he gives it away for free.) However, he acted wrongly (something about that looks weird, but meh, english majors, you email me & tell me why), and this is the thrid strike for ....

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...DUN, DUN-DUN DUN...

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...having him declawed. Which is yes, I know, really cutting off the first joint of his toes. The other strikes? Scratching at the furniture. Gratuitously. And scratching the bejeebers out of thighs, when he should be a lap cat & then realizes, no, he's a highly strung ninja-cat, & must per-toing! spring away to fight the evil powers of the neighbour's weed whipper, or something.

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And having the cats declawed (they're going to toe my line! hahaha!) is bad, I know, but the other options for the other two were:

1)trying to recover a $6K couch set with the hide of one Siamese-Manx cross

2)euthanasia for furniture, paper product protection

3)a nice drive out to the countryside. In a Soprano's kind of way.

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But I feel much worse about it with Suki, because I know his motives are pure, it's just that his little brain isn't that big, and really, he's my little buddy. He was my pal in Bowness, & kept me from being so lonely. (Before I got Suki, I would spend an extra hour or two in the drugstore on the way home, just to avoid the empty apartment. I would do that almost every night.)

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So it seems like a real betrayal to have his toes taken away, especially as he's such an athletic cat. But! *insert mamma glower* He scratched my baby! And really, with no front claws, we would be more willing to entertain Dr. Scratchyl/Mr. Purr in our laps, so he would have less of a love deficit.

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I'll see what the man says when he gets home. I'm going to go & shower & then sew in the basement & wait for the cable guy.