I had my first bonafide injury as a kennel assistant this past week when a reluctant-to-be-held kitten sunk her sharp little claws into the skin on my chest.
The kitten was way cuter than Ted Nugent, and is much more politically savvy than the aging has-been rocker, so of course I forgave her.
The incident with the kitten does indicate that I have not quite reached the coveted level of kitten cuddler. Kitten cuddlers are well versed in proper handling techniques.
And there’s more to the job than this photo ^^^ would have us believe.
Still, I am wearing my scratches as part reminder/part badge of honor: I came, I cuddled, I was clawed. There is no honor without sacrifice, and stuff like that.
C’mon folks! Adopt, don’t shop!
Praying for Eyebrowz 