Well, evidently my claws grow faster than Dad recognized. We were playing this morning (as we usually do) and with the episode of Boomer Tag I hurt Dad. What's Boomer Tag you ask? Well, it's a game Dad and I play in which he gets me all wound up, stares at me, and I return the stare so long as Dad is there. The moment he runs, I run after him and wrap myself around his moving leg. I generally don't do any harm because my claws are either clipped and/or because Dad wears jeans. However, this morning with Dad in his shorts, I grabbed his leg and my claws did their extensive damage. Dad said some words. He told me they were bad and never to repeat them. I just rolled my eyes. Dad doesn't realize my pharynx is not deep enough to pronounce more than, "Meow." Oh well. I apologized to Dad and he put some bandaids on. Then the claw trimming commenced.