Kitty Caps: A Great Alternative To De-Clawing Your Cat

 

 

I love our family cat, but every once in a while, she decides to scratch one of us. I called our beloved vet to gain some insight and he told us that random acts of aggression often happen in felines who were taken away from their mothers at too early an age. Bummer, but therapy for Cossette is not an option, and, aggression will not tolerated. Outside of de-clawing, what is a cat owner to do? We tried some of the “calming” sprays and collars on the market. While they worked for a bit, the cat still managed to scratch my daughter the other day for no apparent reason. Enter: Kitty Caps.

I'd seen these equivalent of human fake nails before and knew that, much like the fake nails ladies put on, you glue them over a cat's nails. This way, when the cat scratches, she doesn't hurt anyone. I'd also read mixed reviews about them being hard to put on and that they tended to make cats a little more nippy. Still, with no alternative except to de-claw our beloved pet, I decided to try them, especially since PetSmart has a 30-day return policy even if the package has been opened.

Armed with the salesman's warning that after applying the nails, you needed to keep the cat quiet for a while, I chose the largest size available (Cosy is a tubby 15 pounds). Timing with her is important, so I chose to apply them the next morning when she tends to be sleepy. I also decided to only put them on her front claws since those are the ones she attacks with. Following the package directions, I trimmed her nails (she's great with that since she gets a treat right after). While she retired to the couch, I got the Kitty Caps ready.

You're supposed to fill the nail half way with glue and then slip them on each of the cat's nails. Therein lies my biggest problem with this product: the glue does not flow out smoothly. I actually had to use pliers to squeeze any glue out. The manufacturers give you an extra fine tip to slip over the glue tube which I found completely useless. After making a gluey mess out of a few of the nails, I finally got the hang of filling one half way. I then grabbed my unsuspecting feline and slipped it over her claw; then I held her for about a minute (the package says you're supposed to hold the cat still for 5 minutes – good luck with that). I got all the nails on with nary a “meow” and she went back to sleeping.

I've watched her behavior over the past two weeks to see if there has been any increased nippiness and haven't seen any. When she attacked my leg the other day, it stung from the impact but she didn't even pierce my thin leggings. I check the Kitty Caps every other day and when I saw that one had fallen off, quickly and easily replaced it. Cosy has used her scratching post and doesn't seem to be effected at all by the fake nails.

So far, I enthusiastically recommend Kitty Caps. They've made my family safer from random cat attacks and have saved Cossette from the only alternative to getting rid of her – de-clawing. If you decide to try them, just make sure the merchant you're buying them from will take them back even if the package has been opened.

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What's A Cat Got To Do With Menopause?

You may have noticed my cat on this blog. No, I am not a  crazy cat lady nor am I even a cat person (not that there's anything wrong with that), but this particular feline does, in fact, relate to my being in menopause

A very forgiving animal, indeed.

(or menopaws, if you will). She is also the result of the one time I overtly and successfully manipulated my husband. Here's the story.

For 13 years, we had a beagle named Bailey. The dog pre-dated my kids and we adored him even though he had a multitude of bad habits such as eating a full, raw head of cauliflower and then farting all night, eating unrisen bread dough resulting in a $500 vet bill,  and walking into telephone poles whenever a squirrel caught his eye. Bailey also had epilepsy, not his fault, but a challenge just the same. My husband and the beagle had a very close relationship (think Elliot and E.T.), so when the dog died, he could not bear to get another pet for quite a while.  Plus, we needed a break after having had an animal who required so much energy and damage control. 


Finally, after about three years without a large pet (the hamster didn't count), I wanted something.  I wanted a companion, someone who would like me even when the kids didn't. I realized that a dog would not fit into our schedule, so I started surfing pet adoption websites like some men surf for porn. Cats seemed to require much less work than dogs, so I learned more about them and realized I wanted one even though my husband and I remain dog people to this day.


Finally, when I turned 50, I asked my husband to at least entertain the possibility of another pet. I mean, a half century is a milestone birthday and it should be celebrated with something monumental, right? I started visiting a local shelter and tried to acquaint myself with the cats that were there. Several were cute and would have fit the bill, but we have a rule that for a new member to join the family, EVERYONE must agree to it. Hubby just wasn't there yet. However, one day, I did convince him to come with the kids down to the shelter to see the cute little kittens. He emphasized to the kids that there was a good possibility that we would NOT be bringing a new pet home and I fully agreed. Better to come home empty-handed than with something we would have to return.


We played with several kittens that day and had finally agreed on an energetic one named Feisty when we learned that she had already been taken. Her cagemate, however, was available. There she was, in the back of the cage, a little gray ball of fluff with a half pink-half gray nose. When I put my hand out, she licked it. I was in love. This was the half cat-half dog that I wanted. Hubby was still skeptical until I played a card I had only been thinking about, a full-fledged, obvious attempt at manipulation that I was ready to unleash with the force of a dozen hot flashes.

“We'll call her Cosette,” I said, knowing that Les Miserables is my husband's all-time favorite musical. His eyes lit up.  The name appealed to him and even though he knew that I was shamelessly trying to coerce him, he began humming a tune from the show. I joined in. Even the kids knew something magical was happening.


The rest is history. I mistakenly misspelled her name, so it remains Cossette or Cosy for short. She brushes off my hormonal moods, forgives any menopausal insanity, and it has not escaped me that my mid-life crisis pet is, in fact, gray, much like the color my own mane is turning. This feline is infinitely patient with my children and every night, serenades us with lovely music (we call it meowsic). She also brings me her toy and plays fetch until she gets bored (she is a cat, after all). One day, she will be my empty-nest friend when my kids go off to college.


You'll see Cossette from time to time. She makes the house a less-stressful place and makes me happy. I hope she brings a smile to your face, too.