I don’t get scratched quite as often as I used to, but they are extremely painful when I do. It is as if those sharp claws are always present, piercing me.
Slipping my Keen sandals on my bare feet, I prepared for my school’s “open house”, and was almost out the door. Some events I anticipated were seeing friends, meeting new teachers as well as greeting old ones, and having the cold, fresh taste of ice cream on my tongue. Right as I was about to leave, I saw my tan tabby cat, Ivy, casually walking by. I didn’t just want to say, “Bye, Ivy!”, and leave. I felt confident I could pick her up and manage to get her to stay. I scooped Ivy up in my arms, trying to get a good grip on all four of her legs. She stayed without protesting… but only for a moment. …show more content…
Ivy!” I exclaimed in agony. She had successfully wriggled out of my arms, and her claws tore my exposed skin.
“Ah, Ivy scratched you. Maybe we should trim her claws soon; Olive’s too.” My dad ventured. He was probably right; our cats’ claws could grow sharp. “Maybe,” I echoed. I didn’t have time to look at how terribly large or red my new gash was; I just followed my dad and my sister out the garage door, clutching my fresh scratch.
I’m probably overreacting, I reassured myself. It can’t be that bad… can
Slipping my Keen sandals on my bare feet, I prepared for my school’s “open house”, and was almost out the door. Some events I anticipated were seeing friends, meeting new teachers as well as greeting old ones, and having the cold, fresh taste of ice cream on my tongue. Right as I was about to leave, I saw my tan tabby cat, Ivy, casually walking by. I didn’t just want to say, “Bye, Ivy!”, and leave. I felt confident I could pick her up and manage to get her to stay. I scooped Ivy up in my arms, trying to get a good grip on all four of her legs. She stayed without protesting… but only for a moment. …show more content…
Ivy!” I exclaimed in agony. She had successfully wriggled out of my arms, and her claws tore my exposed skin.
“Ah, Ivy scratched you. Maybe we should trim her claws soon; Olive’s too.” My dad ventured. He was probably right; our cats’ claws could grow sharp. “Maybe,” I echoed. I didn’t have time to look at how terribly large or red my new gash was; I just followed my dad and my sister out the garage door, clutching my fresh scratch.
I’m probably overreacting, I reassured myself. It can’t be that bad… can