I had an
epiphany this evening, a tiny one, nothing earth-shaking, yet all the more
pertinent for being so. How many small things slip under the doorway of our
consciousness and pile up to form a huge mound of regret? This epiphany is owed
to Merry who invariably greets me with a loud meow the moment I insert the keys
of the main door into the lock. If I do not confirm that I have indeed returned
from the hated (by them) place called ‘Office’, his protestations continue to
grow in volume and poignancy. Today, though, he was sitting not right in front
of the door but at a little distance, closer to the bookshelf, with Frodo,
licking his younger brother’s ears. As I entered, he pattered up to greet me.
The sound of his claws on the wooden panelled floor (though I’m sure it’s not
really wood) made me realise that it’s time to perform that quarterly ritual of
clipping my boys’ claws. Was that the epiphany? No, of course not! Though, it
is no less critical to the peace and sanity of my household.
The epiphany
(hold your breath- actually, don’t) was that marital discord has several points
of similarities with cats’ claws. Now, you will say, this is the final proof of
being cat crazed. To allay your concerns, I AM cat crazed, so stop looking for
proof (J), and I will demonstrate how the two are similar based on my
personal experiences of both. Now, I am not an expert either on cats or on
marriage. But I have been around both long enough to have noticed a few things.
First, cats have
claws. This is an irrefutable and universal truth. Likewise, conflict within
marriage exists. Period. It can be overt, it can be an undercurrent that
insidiously chips away at the base of marriage.
Second, often,
it does not come to notice until something pops out in front of your eyes and
refuses to be ignored. Like the scratch on my back from when Sam tried to use
me as a trampoline, or the stuffing popping out of the mattress because the
boys have been scratching it, or Merry’s yowl after his claw snagged on the
cushion cover. He always has had this unfortunate tendency just as Pippin has
always had a penchant for getting stuck – but that is another story. Anyway,
you notice that the claws have grown too long for comfort when something
definitely undesirable happens. You can ignore these for a while but they
become increasingly hard to. Marital conflict is like that. One day you can’t
have enough of each other, and the next day you are getting annoyed by the loud
sounds he makes while cleaning his tongue with a tongue-cleaner, or by her
tendency to drop her clothes on the bed after coming home without bothering to
pick them up. You can ignore those for a while but after a point they become
unignorable (I know there’s no such word!). What happens then? How long can you
pretend that things are all peachy and rosy? I guess it depends on the
individuals. I’ve known people go through years without complaining, and then
just explode one day and make up the quota in six months!
Third, there are
ways to tackle with the overlong claws. Clip them. Or, if the cat doesn’t allow
you to clip his or her nails (Lattu, my mother’s cat and therefore my ‘brother’
and my boys’ ‘uncle’ is one such cat) and you still want to protect your
precious upholstery from their scratching, get them a scratching post. There is
a third option as well— covers or caps for their nails (I don’t remember what
they are technically called). The important thing is that it is possible to
solve the problem and there are several options. You can choose the one that
suits you. I clip my boys’ claws. The strategy is that I grab them and sit them
in my lap gently, then firmly but carefully clip their claws while my husband
either kisses and cuddles them or scratches their head, ears or tummy. The good
cop, bad cop is an effective routine in my household. So also for marital
conflicts. Conflicts don’t necessarily mean that there is something inherently
wrong with the marriage; on the contrary, they prove the opposite, that it is a
normal one. Conflict is part of normal human behaviour and must exist in some
form or the other in every human relationship. At least, so the behavioural
scientists say. If you disagree, take it up with them!!!
Fourth, it is
NOT easy. Despite all our strategies and practice, our hands, arms, bellies and
backs still get scratched by the time all our boys’ claws are clipped. Clipping
seventy-two claws is no joke! If you think I am exaggerating, you are welcome
to try it the next time I need it done. Sorting out marital conflicts, too, can
sometimes leave you with more wounds than you started out with. Hurt egos,
wounded pride, broken hearts, smashed dreams of perfection – these are the
casualties in the process of resolving conflicts in a marriage. But it’s all
for better. The egos and pride will hopefully stay crushed for good; they have
no business in a marriage. The hearts will mend and the dreams will be fixed by
the adhesive of reality. (Now, isn’t that poetic!). It WILL be tough, but it
can be done. I remember a time when every other time my husband and I fought, I
gave up hopes that we would be together for much longer. Where is the man I
fell in love with and married, I would wonder with anguish. Now, I feel like
laughing when I think about those times. My husband, of course, denies ever
having any such misgivings, but men will be men, as a smart kid told me
recently!
Fifth, there is
no permanent solution. Claws will grow long again. Discord will raise its head
again. So, what can you do? Keep your clippers sharp and your minds open. Every
time the claws give trouble, clip them. Every time the marriage faces conflict,
tackle it. There is no everlasting fix; there is no happily ever after. But
there is hope, and in the end that is what really matters.
Note: Some
people consider declawing of cats as a permanent solution, but it is akin to
mutilation of the fingers and is extremely inhumane.
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