I had this cat. She was black with a white tuxedo collar and brilliant green eyes. She would lie on top of anything that allowed a full view of her beautiful self while she demonstrated the retracting of her dagger claws. Pride backed by power, she would sink those cutters into my jugular affectionately needing me at night. This hurt and disrupted sleep.
I removed her claws.
She limped around the house. She hid. She adopted a very pathetic mew that turned to a sour hiss in the presence of strangers. Her behavior changed dramatically from a confident feline into a, well, not that pleasant animal. Guilt settled in. I destroyed a piece of her.
She had been declawed.
Um, hem. No need to pass me a nail file. I rollerblade past runners and drool. Their feet strike the ground and push mealy calves up into the air while sweat streams off their backs and soaks their shirts. I watch them all- the fast, the slow, the young, the old….and I drool.
I know you do too. I rollerblade past a woman who shouts at me, “I wish I could do that.” All the while I am watching a young man run and thinking, FUCK I want to do THAT! Hee Hee.
Sitting at dinner, I watch the candles flicker out. The wax burns very low and the blaze dances between alive and barely breathing. I cradle my hands around the flame and it grows. Sheltering something only for a moment all the while knowing it’s fleeting is very powerful. Why? Because we do that every day in all that we do. We shelter ourselves, our children, our bodies, our experiences….to maximize the most out of every last moment. To simply enjoy the flame.
SO CHEESY! I know. I’m eating cheese.
However……… it’s true. We live for memories. We live for moments. OK, I do. And a lot of people have been putting their hands around my flame. I can’t thank them enough.
Maybe they are growing new claws….