Cat claws

Cat claws were embedded in my neck, back and arms. Mostly they stabbed, clinging on as though for dear life - even though no life, even mine, was in danger. One time they scratched, leaving an inch-long cut on the underside of my right forearm where the flesh, I think, is more sensitive than the top side.

Cat claws hurt. Cat claws hurt a lot. Especially when you’re making such an effort to be kind to your cat. The singe is that much sharper.

Paloma has been my cat for a full week now and still is hiding under the couch, just laying there, not moving.

Last night I tried again to get her out and, at least for a few minutes, I was successful. As I mentioned last week, this cat is a lover of neck rubs. If I lie down on the ground and reach my hand under the couch, she’ll walk toward me and allow me to pet her. It’s kind of funny, actually. She rolls all over the place and purrs like a motor.

Last night when we were on the floor going through our pet-me-on-the-neck routine, with her under the couch and me right beside it, she dared to venture out to sit on my lap. I was pleased - I mean, finally! All this waiting! The patience! It worked! And so we sat on the floor for a few minutes, just kind of cuddly, and then we moved on to the couch. She seemed OK there, too, mostly.

Before I go on, can I tell you that I think I now understand (a bit) what it’s like to date as a guy? All I wanted was for that silly cat to stop hiding under the couch so we could cuddle, play and eventually sleep side by side. So when she sat on my lap, purring and acting all sweet, I was like, wohoo! She likes me!

And that is the point at which I started to move too fast. I thought: She’s cozy on the couch; maybe it’s time to take it to the bedroom. It was midnight. Definitely bed time. I stood up and started walking.

That’s when the cat claws emerged in full, sharp and stabbing. Paloma liked me, but she still wasn’t ready for the next big step. When we got to my room, she jumped from my arms and dove under my bed, where she remained hidden until long after I was asleep.

I should have read the warning signs. When we were on the couch, the claws started to show. Just a little - nothing violent - more like a poke - but they were there, and I could feel them. That should have been a sign: Leave her be. There’s always tomorrow.

Now it’s tomorrow, and Paloma is still under the couch.

OMG, what effort! And I’m almost out of tuna.

What this means: I still don’t have any cat pictures.