Those of us who have pets know that it is a love/hate relationship. We love when they snuggle with us, we hate it when they eat their own shit and regurgitate it onto the carpet.
Our Birman is a sweet cat. He likes to cuddle, to the point of irritation. Several nights a week he jumps up on the bed and wants to sleep on me. Not next to me. On me. My arm, to be specific. I have to cradle my arm a certain way for him to settle down. If I don't, the Siamese genetic component to his breed gives him a yowl that would wake the dead. This ritual usually starts one way and ends in one of two: I thrash around with my arm trying to find his head. If I scrunch his ears and under his chin and he settles down next to me, we're golden. Otherwise, I knock him off the bed.
A few nights ago, I felt him jump up. He walked the length of my bed and began to pace and turn next to my pillow. I tried to ignore him, but a few kitty chirps turned yowl got my attention. I reached around behind me to get him to shut the fuck up. I grabbed him and, just like you'd tousle a dog's ear, I tried to get him to settle down.
But something didn't feel right.
I turned my head, and...well, I'll be plain about it. I had him by the asshole and what was left of his testicles. Just pinching and scrunching away.
He was quiet, though.