Fortunately, when he's affectionately latching on to my arm (his form of 'embrace'?) -- his is the skill of an eye-surgeon: I can feel all 16ish claws just barely 'depressing' skin.
He hasn't screwed up yet. No scratch marks or even tiny holes. (Even if I type! while he's ..communing.)

Dunno where this abandoned kitty (for an unknown tenure) acquired such savoire faire, but Squeak surprises in many other ways, including:
a wide vocabulary of whistles, chirps and, of course squeaks ... tailored to chow time, Go Out time, etc.
He communicates quite more straightforwardly than your average biped. Priceless, is what he is.