Mittens is not a kitten any longer but he's so much smaller than Maggie, I always think of him as one. Plus, Mittens rhymes with kitten and I like that.

Last week Monday, I took him to the vet's for a declaw. He's been using the back of my couch as his personal scratching post for quite some time; the fabric beneath the slip cover is shredded. The carpet entry to my bedroom is also shredded since he's not allowed in my room overnight and sometimes, he wants to GET IN NOW. Declawing seemed a reasonable approach to keeping the house from falling apart.

He's been fine, I had him sequestered in Chris' room. Friday night, I let him join the rest of us. He was sweet-tempered and loving the whole weekend. Maggie preferred him locked up and she would hiss at him every chance she got. I noticed, however, that she only hissed when he was looking at her. If his head were turned, she'd stare…and if he were close enough, she'd sniff at him. The whole time he was gone, in fact, she'd come up to me and to Rob and yowl, as though trying to alert us that Mittens was missing. Maybe she was gloating.

Yesterday, Rob had already left for work and as is my practice, I arose at a quarter to seven to frantically dash around getting ready. I threw open the bedroom door. Maggie waltzed inside and I noticed dark spots on the hall carpet. When I turned on the light, I was aghast; the spots were obviously blood. I turned the corner and at the bottom of the bloody trail on the stairs sat Mittens, curled in a relaxed loaf-shape, sitting in a little red pond.

As I gathered him up to take to the vet's, I noticed that the living room carpet was soaked through in several places, notably the back of the couch. Mittens had stopped for a snack at some point because there was a pool in the kitchen. He'd also seen fit to traverse the dining room, once by carpet and then via the dining room table. It honestly looked as though someone had fought off a violent attack in my home. And the smell! Hoo, boy…

Mittens somehow snagged open one of his paws after Rob had left for work but before I got up. The vet bandaged it up and sent us home. By the time we got home, Mittens had already dislodged the bandage and was oozing again. I grabbed a first aid kit and bandaged him again. He shook that one off. I put on another one and went to heat up a cup of leftover coffee. Back upstairs, Mittens had shaken that bandage off as well. Finally, I decided to build my own "bell" collar to place around his neck so he'd stop chewing on his hand. With some sturdy plastic shelf liner and mailing tape, he was all set. I put him back into Chris' room and set about cleaning the house. Needless to say, I took the day off work.

Last night, Rob noticed the bell collar and thoughtfully removed it so Mittens could eat. He didn't realize that there wasn't any food or water in the room; I'd removed it after applying the bell collar, knowing that he wouldn't be able to eat. Rob went upstairs and reapplied the collar. A little while later I went upstairs to bring the kitten down so he could eat in the kitchen sans collar before being sequestered for the night.

Have you ever seen Mummenschanz? They do a routine with flexible tubes covering their whole bodies, performing skits by turning and flexing the tubes.

I opened the bedroom door and Mittens rose from the couch, his head encased in a white plastic tube, not unlike the inside of a toilet paper roll. He had to turn his entire body in order to see where I was and peered at me through this tunnel. It reminded me of the Mummenschanz skit and I laughed so hard, I could hardly carry him down the stairs for his dinner. Rob claims that this is how he found Mittens when he first went upstairs. Mmhmm.

So a horrible day ended with a laugh. Except I still have to clean the stairway and hall. ::sigh::