This is a brief story about my feline roommate, Basil. He has been a good companion as I make the transition from living with a warm place to put my weiner into bachelorhood. A fantastic beast, he is a member of the Manx breed of kitty, and is roughly thirteen months old. Unlike the manx picturd in the link, he is silver with white rings, and has no dangley little earring. I'm not sure what sort of freaks indulge themselves by accessorizing their pets with what appears to be a Christmas tree decoration, but that is f[red][/red]ucking weird as all get out.
This is also a tale of my procrastination, and what I fear is perhaps the end of me and my cat as we've known it.
Basil first came to live with me last July tenth, and was a tiny little kitten who had been abandoned in an apartment complex. I took him in as my own, and he quickly came to love the security I provided. I got him his shots, and we lived happily ever after.
That was until yesterday, when I caught him pissing his noxious bubbley urine all over my dirty laundry. With a swat and a chuckle I brushed him away from the violated laundry basket, and thought to myself: Well this seals the deal, it is time for his nuts to go.
I had hoped it would be unneccessary for him to be neutered, as he is a strictly indoor feline. I had heard the horror stories of spraying and everyone let me know how he would run away indefinitely if he ever reached past the front door threshhold. I just knew he would be different, and to my horror I've discovered he is.
Last night, I'm hovering in that pleasant place between sleepy time and waking, and I feel a little love nip on my wrist. Then I feel a furry rubbing against my left forearm, and I start to come back from slumber-land. By the time I open my eyes his little kitty noodle is protruding and attemtping to impregnate the soft skin of my inner elbow.
That's right, the cat was making tender manx love to my left forearm.
Now here's something that may surprise you; I found this utterly disturbing and promptly shook him loose. He gave a sad little meep and stared at me with his yellow-rimmed green eyes, totally perplexed at how I, his true love, could shun his noodley advances. I felt instantly guilty, like I was depriving him of some instinctual need to procreate on my elbow, and then I chased him till he hid under a table where I cannot reach him. I cursed violently. In the end I chalked it up to an example of his affection, and slept with my door locked. This morning while I was eating my breakfast of two eggs over easy, toast and bacon he approached the afore offended left arm again, and nibbled at my wrist, attempting to again straddle the soft inner elbow. He was again deflected.
So today will be the day he loses his spuds, I only hope it's not too late. I imagine that what will happen is he will return home like a lobotomized version of his prior self. I assume he's going to lose his *****.
The moral of the story? Please spay/neuter your pets before they come to this, and discourage your elbow from being so damned sexay.
Come on now, Basil, into the pet-carrier with you.