Even though it could be better for your couch, that might not be the best thing for your cat.
Declawing is defined as “the amputation of the last bone of each toe on a cat’s paw” by The Humane Society of the United States, and that definition alone should dissuade you from engaging in the procedure.
Our animal buddies endure great anguish during declawing, as the society compared it to chopping off your finger at the last knuckle.
They continued, giving an explanation: “Using a scalpel or guillotine clipper, amputation is the usual way of declawing. The feet are wrapped, and the incisions are sealed with surgical glue or stitches.”
Recently, the declawing debate has spread to Twitter, largely due to the popular account “non aesthetic things.”
The user wrote, “This is why you shouldn’t declaw your cat,” and included a video that showed what happens to cats who are declawed.
Basically, declawing causes the last bone on a cat’s toes to be severed and removed. This impacts the tendons and ligaments and eliminates the claw entirely.
Cats may feel “extreme pain” when they learn to walk on what are essentially amputated toes, but they do heal eventually.
The movie described how this causes cats to struggle with walking, jumping, and balance, which would ultimately cause them to exhaust their nine lives.
Even in the long run, defewing can have negative effects like arthritis, persistent pain, and limited mobility.
Oh, poor infants.
Many people have flocked to the Twitter video’s comments section, where many have only recently discovered the grim reality of declawing.
One member said, “So declawing your cat is just removing parts of their feet wth.”
One person wrote, “literally, take off our very last finger bone that we literally use to type,” another wrote, “It’s absurd to think that a significant portion of people in the US declaw their cats.” A third person wrote, ” To be honest, I’ve never heard of this outside of the United States.”
Four people said, “Declawing should be banned everywhere, it’s just inhumane!” in the meantime.
I Found My Husband Embracing Our New Neighbor and Was Shocked by the Resemblance of Her Son
My husband had been visiting our beautiful new neighbor quite often, helping with heavy boxes or fixing a lightbulb. One day, I couldn’t take it anymore and went over with some cookies, pretending to be a friendly neighbor. That’s when I saw a little boy… He was the spitting image of my husband!
I began noticing how often David helped our new neighbor, Lauren. At first, it seemed harmless—carrying boxes, fixing a broken door, simple things neighbors usually do. But as the days went by, his visits to her house became more frequent.
“Why do you keep going over there?” I asked him one night, my voice betrayed a hint of annoyance.
He shrugged, barely looking up from his phone.
“She just needs help with a few things. It’s no big deal, Sarah.”
“No big deal? You’ve been over there almost every day this week.”
David sighed, brushing me off with a wave of his hand.
“You’re overthinking this. She’s a single mom; she just needs some support. It’s nothing.”
He wouldn’t cheat on me, right? Not David. He’s just being kind, that’s all.
For a moment, I let it go, convincing myself that my husband couldn’t be doing anything wrong. But then came that afternoon, the one that changed everything.
I came home earlier than usual. As I walked up the driveway, I saw them.
David and Lauren were standing on her porch. They were close, too close. And then it happened. His arms wrapped around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
What is he doing? Why is he holding her like that?
Suddenly, all those little doubts I had shoved aside came crashing down, louder than ever.
David, my David, was cheating.
The next morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something. Sitting there, watching David act like nothing was wrong, was driving me crazy.
I had to see Lauren myself. Maybe I was wrong, and there was some innocent explanation for all of this. But if there wasn’t, I needed to know.
I grabbed a box of cookies, hoping it would make me look friendly instead of nosy.
“Just a neighborly visit,” I told myself, walking across the street to Lauren’s house.
Lauren opened the door, looking surprised to see me.
“Oh, hi, Sarah!”
“Hi, Lauren,” I replied, holding up the cookies like a peace offering.
“I thought I’d bring these over. You know, just to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’”
“That’s so sweet of you. Come in.”
Lauren was still a bit shocked.
The house smelled faintly of fresh paint, and toys were scattered around the living room. As we made small talk, my eyes darted around, searching for any sign of David’s presence, anything that might confirm my worst fears. I could hardly focus on what Lauren was saying.
Suddenly, a small boy came running into the room, giggling. He couldn’t have been older than five. He had dark hair, the same shade as David’s, and those familiar brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat.
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“Max, say hi,” Lauren said, smiling at the boy.
Max waved shyly before running off to play. I stood there, frozen. That boy… he looked so much like David.
Could it be? Could Max be David’s son?
The resemblance was uncanny, and the thought that David might have a child with Lauren twisted my gut in ways I didn’t think were possible.
“Sarah, it’s Max’s birthday, and we’re having a little party. Nothing too big, just a few friends, cake, you know. Come with David. It will be fun!”
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